


Spend A Little Less Time Keeping Score

by misssnowfox



Series: Spend A Little Less Time Keeping Score [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Universe, Emotional Hurt, Emotions, Established Relationship, Feelings, Firsts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Love You, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, POV Kageyama Tobio, Romance, the one where they deal with the i love you thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misssnowfox/pseuds/misssnowfox
Summary: After all, he already knew he loved him. Knew that there wasn’t a single person alive who could replace him in his life if it came to that. That red hair would probably forever be a deal breaker with anyone else if Shouyou ever woke up and realised how much better he probably deserved than someone who was malfunctioned enough that a two-syllable word made him stutter and splinter on the spot. He could be just like everyone else. He could call the guy he loved his boyfriend just like everyone else.___Romance has never come easy for Tobio Kageyama, especially when he takes it upon himself to make plans.Part 3 ofSpend a Little Less Time Keeping Score, the series known behind the scenes asFive Times Hinata Was Kageyama's First and One Time Kageyama Was Hisbut that evolved into something much more. Can be read as a standalone if you wish, but does contain references to the previous two fics.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Spend A Little Less Time Keeping Score [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644838
Comments: 77
Kudos: 262





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my beautiful fellow Kagehina fans!! Here is the third instalment of this series and as it currently stands, this is the final chapter in this trilogy. I have planned and will write more in this universe, one of which is already planned out and the others I will just figure out as time goes on, but Hinata and Kageyama's journey from where they started in the first fic to the end of this fic will be complete with all emotional loose ends (I hope!) tied up. I hope that this conclusion will be everything that you might have hoped for and wished for them <3
> 
> As always, I am an anime-only and as it stands, I am up to date on the anime, which is currently on hiatus after season 4 episode 13. Please do not confirm or deny anything in the comments regarding my portrayal of the characters or what they get up to, seeing as this fic is set quite a while past where we are in the anime.

Romance has never been and will never be a natural talent of his. But based on the very few romance movies that he’s watched for this specific research, combined with cross referencing the information from reliable real life sources such as Sugawara and… well, maybe just Suga, Kageyama decides that the beach definitely ranks on a list of suitable locations for romantic gestures. 

Of course, he would prefer somewhere that didn’t cost a few hundred yen to get there on the train, plus the side eyes, jeers and giggles from the team when they ask him what his plans are for the weekend. But Shouyou’s eyes sparkle when he finds out what Kageyama has planned and so he graciously allows the taunting from Nishinoya and Tanaka. They’re also technically his upperclassmen and he can’t really say anything to them in front of the first years without setting a bad example. 

He has no idea what time it is, but the sun is already starting to set, and based on his mother’s collection of movies, this is prime romance hour. He’s not entirely sure what precisely it is about a sunset that’s supposed to make any given situation more romantic— is it the colours? As a rule, Kageyama has always been more fond of blue, rather than the reds and oranges - with the very notable exception of Shouyou’s hair, but if he started paying attention to all of the ways in which Shouyou is an exception to the rules, then the rules themselves would become meaningless. He just can’t have that. 

For example, he’s certainly not overly fond of seagulls - more to the point, he’s certain they have some razor sharp vendetta against him seeing as any time he’s within a 2-kilometer radius of one, he can be sure that he’ll get crapped upon. But today, he decides that they must be his favourite animal and that he’s severely misunderstood them. Because as he leans back, his palms enjoying the cooling sand beneath his fingertips, and watches Shouyou attempt to sneak up on a group of gulls repeatedly, only to be squawked at in return, he’s not sure he’s ever seen anything more precious. He chases them again and again, until he chases one a little too far into the tide, trips, and lands almost face-first into the water. 

Kageyama bites his lip so as not to laugh and completely ruin his chances of being kissed today - even if he’s not sure he wants Shouyou to kiss him when his mouth has been anywhere near dirty seawater - and leans over to the picnic basket next to him to get a tea towel out. Picnics, according to Suga, were comfortably on a list of acceptable romantic exertions. Which was all very well and good, except it had meant about three hours of solid Googling on what even should go in a picnic, where on earth to buy a picnic basket these days and how he was supposed to keep the food fresh on the train ride over. 

As if on cue, Shouyou comes running with his metaphorical tail between his legs, his feathers suitably ruffled and looking just a little bit like a drowned rat, but says nothing. He doesn’t really need to say anything anyway, his expression is worth an entire essay. 

“You lose that round?” Kageyama asks. Shouyou doesn’t need to be told, he just sits in between Kageyama’s now spread legs, back to Kageyama’s chest. 

“That one gull over there cheated.” He points in the direction of the offender as Kageyama towels off his hair, which should smell like a fish tank but surprisingly doesn’t.

“You sure he just wasn’t just a worthier opponent?”

“No!” Shouyou retorts stubbornly. Kageyama can’t see clearly from this angle, but he feels him cross his tiny arms. 

“Well, why don’t you try for a rematch some other time?” Kageyama offers, finishing off his impromptu hairdressing job. Towelled off, Shouyou’s hair miraculously still looks only a little windswept as it had earlier, rather than the colossal wreck it usually does without a good blow dry. 

He grumbles and shuffles down in Kageyama’s lap until he’s just laying with his head on Kageyama’s legs rather than sitting upright. Clearly being beaten in a made up battle with a bird ten times smaller than you is an exhausting kind of humiliation.

In true Shouyou fashion, it’s not enough to just collapse into Kageyama’s lap. He wriggles and shifts like a lava lamp until finally, he finds a suitable resting place with his head in Kageyama’s lap laying at a 90-degree angle to him, most likely so he has a better perspective from which to gaze up at Kageyama and ruin his breathing pattern. 

Kageyama can finally see his face clearly now that he’s still, which is not a state of being Shouyou is in for very long. The warmth of the sunset is casting a sweet, irresistible colour over his skin, not dissimilar to the full body blushes that Kageyama is so used to seeing from him; he’s adorable with how easily excited he is, even from the prospect of chasing seagulls. But he also looks softer in this light somehow. Not that there’s anything about him that anyone could consider sharp, but it’s as though an artist came in and smoothed out all the edges and created a Shouyou Hinata that was just placed fully formed on this earth with none of the scratches or hardships that life inevitably throws at you. He’s slightly warm and flushed from the seagull chase and the sun from the afternoon has given him the tiniest bit of colour on his cheeks that will be gone by the morning.

Okay, perhaps sunset really is the most romantic time of day after all. 

There’s not a single soul within eyeshot. On the beach, in the sea, on the street level about thirty meters behind them. They’re completely and blessedly alone, which is what finally prompts Kageyama to look down at Shouyou’s peaceful face with his eyes closed and enjoying the feel of Kageyama’s hand scratching his hair, and whisper, “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.”

Hinata blinks up at him sleepily and the way his eyes refocus makes Kageyama’s heartache. He nuzzles into Kageyama’s hand and even more and almost purrs when he says, “Took you a while to finally call me that.”

He has a point and Kageyama is not one to be beaten in an argument, even if it’s a poor excuse for one. So instead of replying, he leans down while Shouyou’s eyes are still closed and to the sound of the tide coming in and out in a hypnotising rhythm, presses his lips to—

Kageyama kicks his desk chair and lets out a slew of curse words, some of which are his and most of which he’d learnt from Tanaka over the last couple of years. He takes his pen and crosses out - maybe a little overly aggressively - the words: ~~picnic on the beach~~.

He’s actually a little nauseated with how cliche and awkward the entire fantasy he just came up with is. Not to mention unrealistic. There is no way he would ever kiss Shouyou in the middle of a beach where anyone could walk by and see them, even if he could fantasise a complete lack of humans as far as the eye could see. 

And god, he has categorical proof of why he will one day become a professional athlete and not a professional writer, because he feels his skin crawl with the made up dialogue he just gave himself, because it doesn’t even _sound_ like him. Who on earth manages to mischaracterise _themselves_? And there is no way Shouyou would just lay there after a confession he’s been waiting the last 12 months for. He’d probably flail so hard that Kageyama would end up with a broken nose, which still probably wouldn’t be as awkward as his imaginary beach date. 

He has nothing but the utmost respect for Suga, and picnics at sunset might be perfect for him and Daichi, but Kageyama decides there _has_ to be a better way of telling Shouyou than this. 

Just when he thinks he can move on from the humiliation and continue drafting ideas, the image of himself and Shouyou borderline _snuggling_ in a wide open public space attacks him again, along with the knowledge that _he_ came up with it, even if it was in a moment of desperation. He’s so embarrassed all over again that he screws up the paper he’s writing on that contains all the other rejected ideas on it and throws it across the room as though getting it as far away from him as possible will scrub his brain clean of how much of an awkward human being he is. 

His phone buzzes and he’s never been more grateful for technology in his life. Speak of the devil, and he shall certainly text. 

**Shouyou Hinata:** _You still coming over? <3_

Kageyama looks at the time and mutters another _shit_ under his breath, realising that in getting lost in his failing vocation as a writer or poet, he’s late to help Hinata babysit Natsu. Having just come back from their annual vacation, Shouyou’s mom wouldn’t usually start work again till Shouyou and Natsu’s first day at school. But Shouyou had texted him early that morning, fresh from his plane ride from Fukuoka and then bus from Tokyo to Sendai, that his mom had been called in for an emergency night shift at the hospital and would Kageyama like to come keep him company while he watched Natsu. 

At this point, it’s more of a formality than a real question, because asking Kageyama if he wants to spend time with Shouyou is almost as silly as asking him if he wants to punch Oikawa in his stupid smug face: the answer is always a categorical, definite, unyielding _yes_.

As he gathers his keys and goes downstairs to find his shoes, he tries to calm his nerves for when he gets to Shouyou’s, as he knows Natsu will still be awake for ages and will want to see him and would prefer him in his slightly less-grumpy state. Shouyou may or may not have hinted earlier at how much she’s looking forward to seeing Kageyama again after their short trip away. 

In the last eight months she’s developed a certain fondness for him that makes him equal parts touched and petrified. Shouyou’s logic came to the conclusion that apparently the Hinata genes can’t help but fall for his ‘grumpy, awkward charms’. And even though it’s not like he’s actively trying to be any sort of replacement for her real brother, Shouyou is _ridiculously_ easy to rile up and Kageyama finds endless pleasure in seeing him seeth whenever Natsu runs over to Kageyama and wraps her arms around his legs. He really shouldn’t egg her on, but as much self-control as he has as a setter, he clearly has none when it comes to being a nightmare boyfriend who enjoys playing sides. 

It’s really okay though, because Shouyou gets him back plenty, whether it’s by not telling him that he has food on his face or by kissing him a little too aggressively before they have to leave for school on the days that they’re allowed to stay over, or that one time he took a photo of Kageyama’s concentrating… okay, _constipated_ expression as he tried to get his milk drink out of the vending machine and posted it on his social media. Kageyama had not only refused to set for him all day, but actually made his own social media profile _just_ so he could post a picture he’d taken of Shouyou the day prior. 

At the time, it was one he’d taken just for himself. Shouyou had jumped out ahead of him as they were walking, probably to stare at a puppy or something, and Kageyama had snapped a picture because he liked the way Shouyou’s hair looked with the light filtering through it like that. After Shouyou’s social media stunt, however, he’d taken another look at it and noticed that the way the photo made Shouyou look like he was standing alone in the middle of the sidewalk. He’d posted it and tagged it with _Hinata with all of his friends._

What they now refer to as _The Social Media War of September_ had lasted three full days until Tsukishima put a definite stop to it by commenting on one of their posts with _Can you please keep your foreplay somewhere more private, we don’t need to see this_. It had embarrassed Kageyama so profoundly, that even calling a truce and letting Shouyou win had been an acceptable price to pay. 

Before he leaves the house, he grabs his volleyball - he’s always preferred his own to Shouyou’s for some reason - just in case Natsu wants to play when he gets there and heads out the door, but not before his mother is able to get in a quick, “Don’t do anything I wouldn't do!”

He slams the door with more force than is maybe necessary.

* * *

The note was probably the worst idea he could come up with, seeing as now he’s forced to wait all morning until Shouyou finds it. Which means that in an attempt to _not think about it,_ Kageyama messes up several combos at morning practice from thinking about precisely that. 

Shouyou is very easily distracted in the mornings and so slipping the note into his lunchbox had been all too easy, but the moment he’d lost his nerve and decided to take it out, his boyfriend was a persistent presence at his side and there was no opportunity for sneaky note-stealing espionage. 

He’s nervous around Shouyou all day in a way that might have resembled the first couple of months of their relationship, but certainly is in no way acceptable a year in. He dodges his texts and avoids him in corridors all morning until halfway through his lunch, he’s attacked - there’s really no better word for it - by all 166cm of enthusiasm and excitement. 

“You are the _best_!” he squeals. 

Kageyama nearly drops his bento all over his lap, because trust Shouyou to sneak up on him from behind. 

“How did you find me?!” he demands whilst in the process of choking half to death on rice at the same time as he’s strangled by two surprisingly strong arms. He’d crept up onto the roof and risked punishment just to try and avoid this confrontation.

“Wait, you weren’t hiding from me were you?” Shouyou asks, and clips him round the back of the head for good measure. He holds out the note, a little more crumpled than it had been this morning. Kageyama can just about make out his own scribbled kanji that reads: _A little something extra with your lunch, from your boyfriend._

“You’re _amazing_ ,” Shouyou kisses the top of his head. 

“Stupendous!” The left side of his face.

“Marvellous!” The right side of his face. 

“Perfect!” The middle of his forehead. 

Kageyama accepts it all in wide-eyed silence, which turns into a jackhammer pulse the second Shouyou starts to actually lean in and-

His alarm doesn’t so much as startle him awake as pull Shouyou’s almost-kiss away from him like an eraser buffing away chalk from a chalkboard. He groans and reaches for his phone to switch it off, but reaches for the wrong side of the bed and accidentally bumps Shouyou’s head instead. 

Right, not his bed. 

He’d slept at Shouyou’s last night which meant he’d had to set his alarm even earlier for school today. He _must_ have been in a deep sleep if he’s forgotten where he fell asleep. 

He looks over to his right to see a messy-haired and _real_ Shouyou climbing his way out of his own snooze. 

While Shouyou comes to his senses and Kageyama has a few more seconds of peace and quiet, he turns to stare at the ceiling and contemplate all the ways in which he’s failed in life. As if his god awful plans weren’t already embarrassing him enough when he’s awake, now he’s being forced to relive them while he’s unconscious and helpless to do anything but sit and watch the evidence of his own stupidity play out over and over. 

It really isn’t fair, seeing as he distinctly remembers crossing _tell him in a note and put it in his lunchbox_ off his list that he scrunched up and threw in the trash. His lower brain function has no business haunting him with images he’s _already_ decided were disgraceful.

He sighs and peeps at his phone now that his eyes are slightly more adjusted to being open. 

Right. It’s the first day of school. 

Which means tomorrow, they’ve been dating for a year. 

Which means he’s had exactly 12 months to think of something special. 

Which means he’s had at the very least the last few months to put his big idea into action. 

And laying there in Shouyou’s room, looking up at the ceiling as though it will turn back time, he’s forced to admit that he is, indeed, planless. 

He thinks it’s likely he won’t have to worry about coming up with anything for a second year, because there probably won’t _be_ one after he fails at this. 

He turns his head back to Shouyou, who happens to crack a sleepy, squeaky yawn and reach up to rub the one eye that isn’t pressed into the pillow. Kageyama snaps his head back to the ceiling, bites his lip, blushes and immediately regrets the decision to look at him in the first place. Because he was just so spectacularly disarmed that he was about two seconds away from just blurting it out there and then rather than taking the rest of the day to knuckle down and come up with a better plan than this. 

Since the day they’d first started going out - even before they’d _officially_ started going out and he’d hugged Kageyama and put him back together in that supply closet with the words _go out with me?_ \- Shouyou has had a bit of a _thing_ for calling Kageyama his _boyfriend_. And by ‘thing’, his eyes light up, his feet twitch a little even when he’s standing on the spot, the entire tone of his voice changes to something dreamy and calm. 

For a while, it had become quite an adjustment process for Kageyama, who flamed each and every time with varying degrees of embarrassment depending on the context. 

The phrase _Boyfriend-yama_ usually resulted in a half-smirk and depending on his mood, either completely ignoring the comment or responding with a half-baked quip. 

Shouyou referring to him as his _boyfriend_ in casual conversation while in private would almost always result in a blush, but not enough to derail his sanity completely. 

Shouyou calling him his boyfriend in front of other _people_ short circuited him to such a degree that he’d had to resort to yelling, yanking and wishing he could steal Shouyou’s tiny stupid bike and bolt for the hills. In fact, they’ve had to try and curb the frequency of which Shouyou is allowed to ‘show him off’ if he wants Kageyama to be of use to anyone for about two hours afterwards. 

In short, Shouyou is aggressively into the fact that Kageyama is his boyfriend and is aggressively into making his boyfriend status known in any way he can. 

Except Kageyama _knows_ that Shouyou is waiting for him to return the favour. Has been waiting for him to return the favour like the best, most patient puppy that’s done his best trick and still hasn’t been given a treat. 

At first, it hadn’t been purposeful. Shouyou has no sense of restraint or embarrassment - apart from the words he deems or doesn’t deem appropriate when discussing what he’s doing in the bathroom - and so throwing words like _boyfriend_ around had clearly been second nature to him. 

To Kageyama, not so much. 

Shouyou had always suggested, encouraged and hinted, with no trace of force, that it would make him _very happy_ if Kageyama would return the favour. And in the first few months, he certainly hadn’t been capable of processing that label and all it entailed. But as with most things that rile up his anxiety, time had been the biggest gift of all, and without even noticing it passing and his comfort levels rising, Kageyama had not just begun to think of him as _Shouyou_ rather than _Hinata_ , but began to toy with the idea that perhaps using that damn word out loud wasn’t more than what he could handle after all.

After all, he already knew he loved him. Knew that there wasn’t a single person alive who could replace him in his life if it came to that. That red hair would probably forever be a deal breaker with anyone else if Shouyou ever woke up and realised how much better he probably deserved than someone who was malfunctioned enough that a two-syllable word made him stutter and splinter on the spot. He _could_ be just like everyone else. He could call the guy he loved his boyfriend just like everyone else. 

He wants to use the word, he’s sure. He’s _excited_ to use it and silently giddy with how damn happy it’s going to make Shouyou. But it has to be _right_. Has to be better than the painful Valentine’s Day incident where he’d conducted an elaborate plan to gift Shouyou with chocolates and drop the word into casual conversation. He may or may not have practised in the mirror.

Unfortunately, both he _and_ Shouyou had shown up at school with a box of Valentine’s chocolates for the other, which had quickly spiralled out of control when they realised that they hadn’t decided who was supposed to buy them for who before the day itself had rolled around.

“How is Valentine’s gift-giving even supposed to work when there’s no girl involved!” Kageyama had screeched the second he was positive they had enough privacy. It had been one of his more hysterical scenes and needless to say, his _boyfriend_ plan had been well and truly thwarted. The entire experience had made him lose his nerve entirely, which is how he’s ended up the day before his anniversary, in bed with his boyfriend and still unable to say it.

He turns his head again to see Shouyou with both eyes now open after a couple of seconds of yawning and a little bit of stretching. One of his eyes is still pressed against the pillow and the other is squinting with barely contained delight at waking up next to Kageyama. They may not always understand each other perfectly, but he can certainly relate to that expression, because he feels just as lucky. 

“It’s not already time to get up is it?” 

Kageyama grins at him. “I thought you of all people would be excited to get back to playing. Not to mention meeting the new first years.”

This gets Shouyou’s attention and Kageyama has a feeling he’d forgotten all about today being the first day of the new school year. When it finally hits him, his head comes up off the pillow so his whole elated face is visible, wide beautiful eyes and all. There’s a crease mark on the side of his face and his hair is flat on that side. It makes Kageyama’s fists clench. 

“Third years!” he squeaks. “Tobio, we’re third years today!”

“Did you really forget?” It’s all Kageyama’s been able to think about while Shouyou’s been in Kyushu for the past two weeks and not here to distract him. The added weight of responsibility of not having anyone seniors to defer to now. The very specific responsibility that will fall on _his_ shoulders and his shoulders alone. 

Shouyou, as usual, has no concept of fear or trepidation. Those genes missed him in the DNA lottery. But that’s okay, because perhaps if he’s feeling generous he’ll lend Kageyama some of that naive confidence. 

“Well, come on, get up or we’ll have to reprimand _ourselves_ for being late.” He moves, but Shouyou gently takes his wrist before he’s able to get out of bed. 

“Can I have a kiss?” he asks in the same way that Natsu sometimes asks them to watch more cartoons or play outside for five more minutes. Damn that Hinata family quirk of instant hypnosis. Or perhaps it only works on him. 

Shouyou strains up anyway, but Kageyama awkwardly shifts to dodge his attacks. “ _Teeth_ , Shou!” he groans. Shouyou pouts at him. “Just let me go brush and I’ll come straight back, you don’t even have to move,” Kageyama promises him. Shouyou beams and flops back to his original spot with a happy sigh. 

“See, that’s why I’m such a big fan of you.”

Kageyama’s stomach clenches and he flicks Shouyou right in the middle of the forehead without replying or moving a single muscle in his face before he slinks off to the bathroom.

Usually, it’s Shouyou who showers the two of them with nicknames, catchphrases and _code words_ as he used to playfully call them. They’ve used and dropped many in the past year. 

But uncharacteristically, it had been Kageyama that awkwardly mumbled the words _I’m a big fan of you_ one day while they’d been taking a Christmas Eve walk amongst fairy light-lit streets and Shouyou’s nose had been pink and his eyes sparkled and twinkled from the reflections and he’d been wearing those _damn earmuffs_ and if Kageyama hadn’t invented those code words, he might very well have had the madness to blurt the real ones that had been on his mind. 

Because he _does_ love Shouyou. Irritably and aggressively so. But Shouyou, who had taken almost every single lead in their relationship to date - who had liked him first and asked to kiss him first and held his hand first and who had been the proactive and only functioning one in helping them navigate their rocky and terrifying road to intimacy, and who had prodded, but never pushed Kageyama to face up to his insecurities and fears - Shouyou still hasn’t told him he loves him. 

Kageyama has just about scraped by in almost every single one of his classes for as long as he can remember, but even he can connect the dots of the logic dictating that if Shouyou hasn’t said it yet, when there’s not been a single relationship milestone thus far that has left him hesitant or capable of restraint, then he just doesn’t _want_ to say it. Either because he’s just not ready or… 

Kageyama doesn’t think he can stand the weight of the alternative reason. 

Which had meant that in order to prevent himself from blurting it out and potentially scaring or _scarring_ Shouyou for good, he’d been forced to spout the first thing that came into his mind that he could use as a placeholder every time his heart swelled up too much - like seeing Shouyou in a big puffy coat and earmuffs with his nose and cheeks red in the middle of a moonlit market. 

Not _I like you_ , not _I’m crazy about you_. Not any of the many more acceptable code words. He’d gone with _I’m a big fan of you_. 

Shouyou had, of course, refused to dismiss the remark and latched onto it as he does onto everything else that he finds _cool_ or delightful. He's almost certain that Shouyou has absolutely no idea what the intention of those words actually is; he just likes the way they sound, because, according to him, Kageyama came up with them and, therefore, they're _awesome_. He thinks it's a stupid reason, and even more annoying when Kageyama had realised that Shouyou had every intention of using them as often as possible, causing Kageyama's heart to race and his palms to sweat without even realising the effects of those words. All because Kageyama couldn't keep his stupid mouth shut.

He sometimes wonders if things would have been better if his mother had become a nun before he’d had a chance to be born. 

As he brushes his teeth in the bathroom, he can hear, even over the sound of running water, Shouyou singing some new made-up song in the bedroom next door and his heart sings right along with him in perfect silence. 

The code words help curb the urgency sometimes, but there have still been so many near misses where Kageyama has almost, _almost_ let the real words slip. Not just mornings like this when his messy hair and freckled face make Kageyama want to pinch himself. But significant, noteworthy moments that whip up his entire foundation, still as a pond, into a frenzied storm. 

Like when he looks up at the tail end of a set just in time to see Shouyou’s midair form at the peak of its height, growing more pristine and practiced every time he spikes the perfect toss. 

Like the countless times - he’d stopped counting at about twenty or so - that he’s kissed his eyelids, his forehead, his nose, and linked their fingers together, trying to distract himself and not _die_ from Shouyou’s blush and his panty, quiet moans as they moved. 

Like the one memorable, and agonising for all the wrong reasons, day earlier that year when he’d held Shouyou, curled up in his lap, while he cried in complete and gutting silence on yet another anniversary of his dad’s passing.

But Shouyou’s not ready to hear those words from him, might never be ready to hear them. 

And so instead of dwelling on it, he washes his face and forces his brain to wake up enough to come up with something for them to do on what is essentially supposed to be their anniversary. 

He’s not much fond of that word - hates how it makes his hair stand on end and aggression pulse through him at how ahead of himself it makes him feel. Like something married couples such as his parents would use to before his dad had left. He can’t even find a way to use the word _boyfriend_ , he has no right throwing words like _anniversary_ around in his head like he Shouyou are…

He should just email Asahi. Asahi will know what to do. He also, after all, has a hyperactive, loud, infuriating boyfriend who probably can’t sit still for long enough to eat a quiet dinner or sit through a long movie. 

Kageyama shuts off the water and makes his way back to Shouyou’s room, taking the executive decision to tackle the anniversary problem first, the boyfriend problem second. He tells himself it’s more logical to do it that way, but his treacherous brain chooses at that moment to supply him with the sarcastic reminder that he’s, in fact, only stalling. Yet again.

He feels his irritation growing, but it’s quickly quelled the second he walks back into the bedroom to find Shouyou flopping straight onto this stomach with a collection of loud, unpleasant sounds - both from his own mouth and the sound of his body hitting the floor - after attempting to do what Kageyama _thinks_ were supposed to be finger pushups.

He hears Shouyou’s grunts of indignation and decides that yes, he really is the biggest fan of Shouyou Hinata, because who else has the ability to turn his mood like that.

“Here,” he says nonchalantly, tossing his towel straight at Shouyou’s face - perfect setter precision - and earning himself an unsuspected choked-off noise of despair that delights him. “Let me show your goofy ass how to do those.”

Tomorrow. He can worry about making a fool of himself with whatever plan he comes up with tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the amazing [mobpsycho100l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobpsycho100) for the beta read.
> 
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	2. Chapter 2

After all the stalling, they end up being in a rush to get to school after all. 

Travelling to school on the very rare occasions that Kageyama sleeps at Shouyou’s the night before is always an uphill battle. Well, it’s downhill in the literal sense, but uphill in every sense other than that. Not only does he live twice as far away as Kageyama, but he also has to bike to school to get there in any sort of reasonable time and so Kageyama is forced to spend most of the journey riding on the back of Shouyou’s bike and praying for his life every second of the way. 

It’s stressful enough that by the time they arrive to unlock the club room, Kageyama has forgotten all about what day it is. On instinct, he stops outside the door and leans against the wall. Shouyou’s comforting prattling stops. 

“Tobio?” he asks and points to the locked door. “Aren’t you going to open up?”

Kageyama blinks. Blinks and digs around in his pocket for the club room key with as much finesse as he can manage what with being as embarrassed as he is. 

“Can’t you be a bit more patient?” he grumbles. “I was just resting for a second after nearly dying on the back of that bike.” 

Shouyou fills the silence once again with his chatter and Kageyama relaxes at having not been caught out that he’d just waited for Tanaka’s swagger to meet them at the door, the key twirling from his index finger as he smirks.

The club room is perfectly silent when they enter, which already feels foreign. For the first time since he started playing at this school, he can physically feel the ghost of all the guys that have been here before him. The dust particles from two weeks of emptiness shift from the various surfaces in the room and begin to twinkle and dance in the air in the shape of Noya and Tanaka wrestling on the floor first thing in the morning. He doesn’t have the best imagination, but he can just about make out Tanaka’s growls, Noya’s nasally laugh. The year before when it was all twelve of them together, he sees Asahi’s fond eyerolls and Suga’s breathy giggle as he tries to hide it behind his hand so Daichi won’t scowl in his direction for encouraging the underclassmen. He sees Ennoshita’s crossed arms and hears Kazuhito and Kinnoshita’s whispered conversations in the corner. 

Shouyou opens a window and the dust begins to scatter and settle and just like that it’s the two of them again in the emptiness and silence. “And then I told Kenma that if he thinks he’s going to beat me just because he’s a college kid now, he’s got another thing coming! And…”

Kageyama turns away from Shouyou’s noise as he takes his hoodie off and smiles without meaning to. 

Perhaps there won’t be as much silence as he feared. 

As he puts his things away and listens to his boyfriend, he feels the ice in his gut melt to something warmer at the sound of his enthusiasm. 

It won’t be the same. It couldn’t ever be the same. But perhaps… even if their team delinquents, their captain, their vice captain, their gentle giant, their first manager are all absent, maybe _they_ might have what it takes to try and fill their shoes. 

Perhaps Shouyou’s meaningless noise first thing in the morning will fill the first and second years with the same giggles that Noya once did. Maybe that’s what the newbies will remember two years from now when they have to unlock this room alone for the first time. Maybe Kageyama’s scowling face will be the one they’re ‘scared’ of when they misbehave. Maybe Tadashi’s comforting voice and Tsukishima’s smirk will be what they miss most once the four of them say goodbye to during their final game at the end of this year. From now on, for the next eleven months, everything they touch will turn into a ticking time bomb. Every little thing will one day be the ‘last’ of something. The ‘final’ of something. 

He’s never wanted to leave his mark on anything before. He’s pretty sure no one else has ever wanted him to either. 

He turns to Shouyou’s continuous rambling. 

“-And anyway, I’m pretty sure I’ve grown _tonnes_ in the last two weeks so-” 

He smiles slow and lazy. He supposes there’s a first time for everything. 

“Tobiooooooooo,” Shouyou moans at him, the clarity of his words lost as he tries to make his limbs behave whilst getting into his white gym shirt. It’s a good job Kageyama knows what his name sounds like, or that might have just sounded like another distressed Shouyou noise. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am, every word,” he deadpans. “ _Tobio is the best player on the team, nothing I ever do will surpass him, I owe him all of my skills, blah blah blah…_ ”

He sees it coming of course, because Shouyou is just _that_ easy, but it surprises him the _speed_ at which Shouyou shoots across the room and jumps onto his back, pulling his hair and trying to stick his fingers in his ears. 

“ _Shouyou_!” he half growls, half wails, trying to dislodge him as best he can. 

“What was that Crappy-yama?!” Shouyou shouts in between laughs, still trying to get access to his ears, which Kageyama at least had the good sense to cover and is now protecting with his life. “I think you need your ears cleaning out! You clearly can’t hear me properly if that’s the garbage you think I’m saying!”

“Asshole, get off me before I replace you as a starter!” Shouyou’s wriggling is as persistent and incessant as his jumps are and _somehow_ , he manages to wriggle a finger in between the cracks of Kageyama’s fingers, because he feels a sharp prod against his ear. “ _Shou_ , I swear to God I—”

“—Um… captain?”

The soft voice makes _both_ of them look up from their contortion act and Kageyama flames when he sees one of the first- no, second year now - standing in the doorway with wide eyes. 

Shouyou climbs off Kageyama’s back, but doesn't actually look in the least bit embarrassed, which makes Kageyama even _more_ so. “Sorry about that Yuki!” Shouyou laughs, a little breathy from his efforts just now. “He was just helping me warm up before practice, isn’t that right, Kageyama?”

Kageyama shoots him a side eye so poisonous that he’s surprised Shouyou doesn’t drop dead on the spot.

“How was your break?” Shouyou continues, moving about the room and getting ready.

“Was okay,” Yuki mutters. “I… I tried to practice as much as I could…”

“Try not to overdo it, okay?” Kageyama tells him. “It’s important to keep yourself sharp, but your muscles need time to strengthen and they can’t do that if they don’t rest at least a little bit.”

“Yes, captain,” Yuki replies meekly and Kageyama hears Shouyou laugh behind him. 

“Don’t look so scared of him, Yuki, just because he’s a third year now. His bark is sorta worse than his bite.”

There’s something about the way that Yuki is standing that reminds Kageyama of when Tadashi first joined the volleyball club. Yuki’s not _quite_ as terrified as he was the first time he was called up for a pinch serve, but there’s certainly a shared energy there. 

“Sorry,” Yuki mutters. “It’s just that… Well, it was different before when you guys were second years I guess. You’re our leaders now. I guess... It’s just all a bit scary, that’s all. What if the new first years don’t like me? I’m supposed to be their upperclassman, right?”

It’s like hearing his own thoughts mirrored back at him from 12 short months ago, though Kageyama likes to think he handled his crisis a little better. A quick sift through his memory tells him that no, he did not deal with it very well. At all.

“Hey,” Shouyou says, and actually comes up to Yuki properly. 

When they’re standing face to face, Yuki still eclipses Shouyou in height. Not by much, but it’s adorable to see Shouyou put his hands on his hips and have to tilt his head up just slightly in order to give Yuki the pep talk he clearly needs.

“Every single one of us was in your shoes at some point. But just remember that everyone on your side of the net is your ally, alright? And hey, we got on just fine up until now, right?” Yuki nods in silence, but there’s a hint of a smile now. “So don’t get all bent out of shape before we’ve even started, yeah? What, am I all scary now that I’m your vice captain, huh?” 

Shouyou’s grabbed Yuki by his arms by now and is shaking him from side to side in a way that makes Yuki resemble jelly wobbling on a plate. But he’s actually laughing now, his eyes crinkling at the sides. 

“Thanks, Hinata,” he says with a smile. “I’m gonna go set up so the first years will get to see it at its best.” 

“Good job,” Shouyou smiles and pats Yuki on the arm. Kageyama watches him scurry out of the club room with an enthusiasm he certainly did not have when he came in. He passes Tsukishima and Tadashi on his way out and Tadashi gives him a high five along with one of his sweetest smiles. He’d sort of taken Yuki under his wing last year when he’d been a terrified first year straight out of the crow’s nest and Kageyama thinks that Tadashi must also have seen the similarities between them.

Kageyama greets them both with a hum and a nod in Tsukishima’s direction which he silently returns. As they get changed, the other second years start to filter in one by one, talkative as ever. 

“Yeah, well I bet I’m gonna be a better upperclassman than _you_!” Kageyama hears.

“In your dreams!” comes the response he’s been so used to having to listen to for the past year.

“Hamasaki! Chiba!” Tsukishima snaps, though he even manages to make scolding someone sound lazy. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, go and help Yuki set up in the gym.”

The two troublemakers sculk off once they’re changed and ready, leaving the four of them in the room together. They’ve spent a decent amount of time together since their original third years left, but it still feels strange to not have Tanaka there to bait Tsukishima into some sort of banter. 

“You couldn’t have dealt with that?” he hears Tsukishima say in a low, bored voice. “What’s the point of being captain if you’re going to let these kids run riot?” 

He clutches his laces so tight he nearly snaps them. Mostly because he knows Tsukishima is in the right and it’s _infuriating_. He’s also not about to admit how he allows them to indulge in their occasional brattiness because listening to their nonsensical arguments fills him with a sense of nostalgia that he didn’t expect.

Had it been three years earlier, had he been captaining his team from Kitagawa First, he probably would have torn Hamasaki and Chiba a new one. But he’s spent his entire high school career thus far attempting to quell the instinctual aggression that builds inside of him when he doesn’t know the right words to use to resolve a disagreement. And now that he’s captain for the second time, he wants nothing more than to make this final year a good experience for all of them. He doesn’t want yet another group of disgruntled or terrified first years to be glad to see the back of him when next March rolls around. He doesn’t possess Suga’s soft voice or effortless kindness, but he feels his influence like a warm hand on his shoulder. He wants to leave that same good influence so badly it hurts. 

But Tsukishima certainly does not get to enjoy the luxury of Kageyama’s new found efforts in patience. When it comes to him, Kageyama was not built for backing down. 

“What?” he asks, refusing to make eye contact. “Get out of breath pulling your weight for once?” He hears him slam his locker closed, but before either of them can ignite the fire, Tadashi steps in.

“Really guys?” he moans. “On the first day back?” Tsukishima rolls his eyes and grabs the remainder of his things before heading out with Tadashi. 

“I’ve gotta say,” Shouyou says now that they’re alone again. “That’s kinda music to my ears.”

“What is?” Kageyama asks. “Tsukishima’s stupid voice? Maybe you should go out with him then.”

Nothing, _nothing_ puts him in a bad mood like his smug face. Oikawa may be the only exception to that, but he’s not even in the same bracket. He has a whole league of his own.

“No, turdface,” Shouyou laughs. “Hearing you two fighting. It’s just… I don’t know, it’s nice that no matter what grade we’re in and how many other things change, some things will be the same.”

Kageyama has never agreed with him more and he feels a warm weight against his heart at the thought that he’s not alone in that. 

He looks up from his laces to see Shouyou coming towards him with a fond expression. It’s taken him a _lot_ of practice, but he only feels the discomfort for about a half second at the sight of Shouyou towering over him in this position before his mind and body recognises it as someone he loves and that he doesn’t need to panic if he’s the smaller of the two for a moment. He’ll just scoop Shouyou in extra tight next time they hug. Maybe zip him up in his hoodie for good measure because he’s a little obsessed with the way it makes Shouyou do his _breathy giggle thing_ as Kageyama had once called it. 

Shouyou’s tiny hands move to his hair immediately, stroking and messing with it. “Dumbass, don’t do that,” Kageyama murmurs but even Shouyou can probably tell that he couldn’t have meant it any less if he tried.

“That doesn’t sound too convincing, _captain_ ,” he says, and his cheeks go puffy as he tries to stifle the giggles at Kageyama’s deadpan expression. “Maybe it’s not too late to get Tsukishima to take on the role, what do you think?”

“He’s a shithead, but sure, go ahead,” Kageyama grumbles. “This whole captain thing was your idea in the first place anyway.”

Shouyou strokes his hair for real now. Not just playing with it absentmindedly, but with the intent to soothe and comfort. “Can I tell you a secret? You’re going to be _awesome_. That’s why I pushed so hard for it, stupid.” he tells him and it’s _so_ quiet. Almost like it really is a secret and not just Shouyou’s silly catchphrase. 

He wishes he knew where Shouyou finds the strength to have so much faith in him when he’s only known him for two years and dated him for one. Kageyama has known himself for 17 years and he’s not even close to that level of belief. But then again he has a feeling that Shouyou’s heart carries so little darkness or animosity in it towards other people that there must just be that much more room in it for things like trust and faith and love. 

_Not as awesome as my boyfriend_

_Well, I guess I learnt it from my boyfriend_

_Awesome despite the shitty boyfriend, huh?_

The last one sounds like something he’d feel the most comfortable saying out loud. 

He could. Right now, he could say it. It’s the perfect opportunity to do it. He wants to say it _so badly._ Shouyou is quiet and happy and they’re alone and Shouyou’s laid the perfect honeytrap for him and it’s all exactly the way he might have planned it and-

“You’re going to be amazing too,” he breathes. He _hates_ himself. “Especially with the new first years, they’re going to love you. You’re so much better at all that stuff than me.”

“Don’t hurt yourself too much, dishing out compliments like that,” Shouyou grins. “And don’t sell yourself too short, you just need to talk more.”

“I talk!”

“Out _loud,_ Tobio.”

He scowls. “Well sometimes it comes out wrong, you know? Maybe you should do the talking.”

“Maybe I should, Scowly-yama,” he huffs a laugh and puts his index finger to the centre of Kageyama’s frown before he starts trying to un-frown his forehead by force, stretching and pulling at his skin.

“Shouyou, what the-”

“Get rid of this frown, Tobio, who’s gonna scout you when you’re looking like your grandpa by the time you graduate! That’s not gonna look very good on TV, is it?”

The word _scout_ sends a shiver up his spine that he hasn’t quite figured out if it’s excitement or fear. He’s reminded of the stack of college brochures in his desk draw, of conversations with his mother, his grandparents and Shouyou himself. It’s not as though his path hasn’t been clear to him from the moment he set his first volleyball at age eight. It’s just that up until now, his plans had never included another person.

“Better a grandpa than a whiny brat,” he smirks. 

“Hey!” Shouyou protests. “Don’t you think I look more mature now that I’m a third year?” 

It’s true that he _has_ grown a little since the day they first met, but so has Kageyama, so it’s hard to tell the difference when they stand side by side. Since joining Karasuno, and specifically since they started dating, he also knows that Shouyou has been working out a little more, the thirst for being taken seriously after high school as a spiker thrumming under his skin. 

Upon his incessant begging, Kageyama had given him some decent training to be getting on with and they’d even worked out together a few times. But Kageyama soon put a stop to that after the first few weeks of seeing Shouyou lifting weights. 

At first, he’d been too distracted to do his own workout because he’d found the sight of Shouyou with a pair of dumbbells hilarious, then he’d been distracted by the thought of Shouyou dropping them and hurting himself, and finally, once Shouyou had gotten the hang of it, he’d been thoroughly ruined by watching him actually _lift_. 

Once he got his form down, Kageyama could actually see the muscles shifting in his arms and legs, eager to grow. Seeing him carry something that heavy made him look even _tinier_ somehow and of all the things to make him snap, that visual was _it_. 

In a very un-Kageyama-like move, he’d told Shouyou to stop what he was doing, and after they’d quickly ascertained that Kageyama’s mom was definitely at work, that had been the end of the workout for the evening.

So yes, he certainly looks different, but certainly not unrecognisable. Kageyama notices it in his arms and shoulders the most - his legs have always been pretty strong. Despite his new routine, he’s still, mercifully, kept the teeniest tiniest pouch on his abdomen that Kageyama had never even known was there until the first time he’d seen him shirtless for longer than a few seconds in the changing room or in the baths. On a regular person, it probably wouldn't even be visible, but every other part of Shouyou is so skinny that Kageyama had been fascinated by it the first time he saw it. He thinks he’ll probably always have it no matter how much he works out, mostly because of all the shit he eats. And Kageyama is _obsessed_ with it. He’s eternally grateful that the exercise also hasn’t done much to change the sweet, bright shape of his face either and made it more muscled and defined, because he can’t imagine Shouyou looking any other way than he already does. 

But instead of answering him honestly and telling him just how much he loves his face and the way he swings his arms when he walks and the way his voice changes when he speaks to the younger kids, he says, “Sure, mature for an elementary schooler maybe.” Because being mature can wait for after high school.

“Dummy,” Shouyou says with another poke. “Seeing as I’m an elementary schooler, maybe I won’t kiss you _all_ day.”

“Suuure you won’t.”

Less than two seconds pass. It’s just that easy. “Okay _fine_ ,” Shouyou sighs, like there’s been two hours of silence. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Just for a second, okay?” Kageyama says. “We’ve got practice.”

“You got it!” Shouyou salutes. 

They don’t take just a second. 

But Shouyou at least has the compassion to kick the door closed, promising to keep an ear out for any passers by while he takes approximately one to two minutes - Kageyama loses count somewhere - smiling like a maniac against Kageyama’s mouth and showing him just how much he can mess up his hair.

* * *

They arrive just in time without it looking slightly suspicious as to why they’re lagging even if Kageyama feels a little out of sorts and Shouyou looks far too pleased with himself.

First practice sessions of the year are always a bit of a throwaway though and after Karasuno’s impressive performance over the last two years, they have six new first years joining the team. Which means the majority of the two hours is spent making introductions and small talk; something Kageyama is _terrible_ at, so he just tries to take a back seat and observe, suss out who he thinks will have potential. 

He tries not to get too hopeful, because he knows what it’s like getting to know new members when your school starts to gather a good reputation. When the toy is brand new and everyone wants to play with it, it’s not quite the same as when people still reached for it when it was falling apart and hanging on by a thread. Just because the newbies were impressed with their performance last year, doesn’t mean that they’ll be any good on the court. 

But at the very least, they seem like a positive batch of kids; none of the attitude problems that Tsukishima or Kunimi had when he remembers meeting them for the first time. Some are louder than others, but most of them seem like they’ll click, which puts Kageyama’s mind at rest that they’ll probably have good chemistry together on the court. He even sees Yuki taking initiative and interacting with them, despite his earlier nerves. Kageyama thinks he’ll take to the new upperclassman role like a duck to water.

By the end of the second hour, he can already tell that the newbies are going to be best friends and a small part of him feels the sting of jealousy at how easy it came to them in a way that he could only have dreamt of when he was 16 and could hear nothing but the thud of a volleyball against a gym floor behind him.

All of them that is, except one. 

It’s difficult to distinguish between all of them in such a short amount of time, but the sixth first year catches his eye for all the wrong reasons. Where the other five are exchanging jokes as they pack up and slap each other on the back - the more confident ones are even trying to bait Tsukishima, which Kageyama finds astounding - one kid packs up his belongings in total silence. 

He’s not standing so far away from the others that it would be overly noticeable, but the gap feels bigger somehow when the others are standing right next to him radiating excitement and enthusiasm and he’s making no attempt at interaction. It piques Kageyama’s interest in a way he’s not used to. In fact, he usually makes it his mission to avoid human contact, or at least he used to.

The kid knocks over his bottle of water and on instinct, Kageyama moves to his side to pick it up for him. 

“Here,” he says and the other boy hesitates before reaching out to take it from him, his shoulders tensing a bit when Kageyama speaks to him. “Which one are you?” he asks. The kid’s eyes just dart from side to side as he puts his water bottle back in his bag. “That is, um… what’s your name?” That seems like a better way to phrase it. 

“Am I in trouble or something, captain?” he mumbles, but he’s completely avoiding Kageyama’s eyes now. 

“Um… no, no of course you’re not, I mean, I only just met you.” He’d almost forgotten that he’s a captain again now - of course the first years are terrified of him. 

He should just back away right now but he’s apparently addicted to awkward situations. This is apparently his life now. “Look, you don’t have to tell me your name, it just seems a good idea for me to know it if we’re going to be playing together. Unless you just want me to call you by your number?” 

Poor attempt at a joke. This is why he doesn’t do the pep talks. He assumes he’s going to be ignored, and rightfully so, but then the kid speaks.

“Ushikawa,” he says, barely audible. “Akihiro Ushikawa.”

Kageyama nods awkwardly, because he really didn’t think this part through or what he’s supposed to say next. He sends out psychic distress signals to Shouyou to come rescue him from his own mistake and for the first time in his life, he feels the presence of the gods, because Shouyou and Tadashi appear by his side along with a couple of the second years. 

Shouyou takes his arm where it's hanging by Kageyama’s side - nearly hanging off it more like. Kageyama allows it and just gives him a half-grin, bumping Shouyou’s body ever so slightly with his arm. He doesn't often indulge him like this, especially in front of the underclassmen, but it is their anniversary tomorrow and Shouyou’s barely even touching him, so he thinks he can be lenient just this once.

“After evening practice we should take the first years for curry buns, yeah?” Tadashi asks. “Keep up the tradition?”

“Pleeeease, Kageyama?” Shouyou whines. 

“You know just because I’m captain, it doesn’t mean I make all of your decisions.” He smiles fondly at Shouyou as he says it. 

“Okay, in that case, take us for curry buns after school please,” Shouyou insists earnestly. 

“Did someone say curry buns?!” Hamasaki and Chiba yell almost in unison. Kageyama both loves and hates them because on the one hand they’re a constant headache, but on the other they remind him so much of Noya and Tanaka that he can’t find it in his heart to be mad at their antics. Only _he_ was never in charge of his delinquents. He has a whole new appreciation for Daichi that he never knew he could feel. 

But before he can get a word in, they’re surrounded by the rest of the second years and some of the first years join in the kerfuffle too. Nothing like the promise of meat to call the crows back to the nest. 

Except Ushikawa isn’t celebrating the prospect of free food like the rest of them. Kageyama notices his eyes dart around the huddle that he’s unsuspectedly found himself in and he goes still as a board as he’s pushed and shoved while the other boys start some sort of pseudo wrestling match right there. 

Kageyama watches him gather the rest of his things at double speed, whilst visibly maintaining as much distance from the huddle that has started to surround him. Before Kageyama manages to ask if he knows his way to class, he’s vanished as quietly as a ghost.

* * *

Shouyou is stuck to him like a limpet every second they’re together that day. Kageyama thinks it’s probably due to the fact that he hasn’t seen him for two weeks and is making up for lost time. Still, there’s only a certain amount that Kageyama is willing to display in front of the student body and cuddling with his boyfriend in public really isn’t on that list. 

“Later,” he murmurs to Shouyou during lunch when he’s all but trying to scent mark Kageyama. His eyes dance and sparkle at the prospect of what _later_ could entail, clearly forgetting that both their parents are home tonight. Kageyama has to crush those dreams fairly harshly and almost breaks at the crestfallen look on Shouyou’s face. 

“What drills shall we ask coach to run during evening practice?” Because volleyball talk is sure to perk him back up, even if his second favourite thing is off the table. 

* * *

They stick to the basics that evening, coach Ukai still testing out the newbies and getting a feel for what their positions might be and if there needs to be a shake up in any current line ups. It’s still too early to really set things in stone, but it’s always best to at least have an opinion early on. 

They start with simple beginner drills to get their muscles back into action and their brains engaged after the two week break. Kageyama loves going back to basics, especially at the beginning of a season. He can tell a couple of the first years are getting antsy to do other things though and he remembers when Shouyou used to be like that whenever they trained together. 

They cover all the standard elements of the game until they finally get to spiking drills. Coach has saved the best for last, knowing that the fun and flashy drills will likely motivate the underclassmen the best before they move into their practice game.

A few of them actually have pretty decent verticals; nothing on Shouyou of course, but it makes his skin itchy with the urge to try these jumps out in a real game, against a real block. He’s missed this game so much and it’s barely been any time at all. 

As he sets the ball for each new spiker, his attention falls on Ushikawa, who falls pretty short on his jump, not once, not twice, but all three times that he goes up to hit. Kageyama furrows his brow, because he’s almost certain that when he looked at the list of applicants earlier, Ushikawa was listed as a wing spiker at his old school. Though seeing as he hasn’t had a chance to speak more than two words to him, he’s not sure how far that skill extended. 

Before he can find out, Shouyou rushes over with an excited giggle. 

“Here, Ushikawa, let me show you how you can jump higher, this is something Kageyama used to teach me when I was a first year. You have to jump from _these_ muscles here and here.” Shouyou points to the muscle groups in his legs that Kageyama taught him about. “And trust me, when this guy is setting to you, you won’t even have to worry about not being accurate, he’ll send it right to you!” 

Kageyama doesn’t think that Ushikawa lacks precision, however. Earlier when he was watching their receiving drills, he beat out every other first year. He knows from his own experience and helping Shouyou how long those take to perfect, which is why it makes no sense to him that his attacks are so sloppy. 

“Hinata…” he starts.

“And don’t forget to jump from the balls of your feet,” Shouyou continues. 

“Hinata, I don’t think where he’s jumping from is the problem…”

“No, I’m sure he took off flat-footed,” he says with a smile.

“I-”

“It gives you the _spring_ , you see? Oh! And don’t forget to land on both feet or you could be sorry!”

By this point, they’ve got somewhat of an audience, even if it’s a curious one rather than a judgemental one. The other first years must want a taste of their vice captain’s wisdom, especially considering his own vertical jump power. 

“ _Hinata,_ shut up for a minute!” Kageyama hisses in a way he hopes will stop his flow of words, but not sound antagonistic. Not making things sound antagonistic isn’t really his strong suit, but he does his best. “Look, don’t listen to him for a second, okay?” he directs this at Ushikawa, who’s clutching the ball in his hand and leaving finger marks in it, eyes unblinking as he takes in his surroundings. “I think… I think what might be the problem is your confidence. You don’t think you can do it, so you’re stopping yourself before you’ve tried.” He pauses and tries to find the right words for what he wants to say next. “Unless… unless jumping just isn’t for you maybe?”

“I dunno,” is his only reply. It’s as deadpan as is humanly possible.

The silence that follows turns the tension up to a ten so it becomes a physical, unbearable awkward presence until finally, _finally_ , he hears Ukai shout, “Alright you guys! Less chatter, let’s set up for a game before we all die of old age!”

* * *

The practice game goes off without a hitch, despite the obvious kinks that appear when playing for the first time with a new team. But after the first set, Kageyama can literally feel the electricity beneath his skin knowing how good these guys will be once they get used to their new surroundings. They are going to _kill_ at nationals. 

He and Shouyou have split up, one of them on each team to try and level the playing field and it’s not a position he’s used to; trying to block one of Shouyou’s spikes rather than being the one setting for him. It’s thrilling to see him from his angle. 

However, as much as he’s enthralled and hypnotised by Shouyou’s flight, he can’t stop himself from peaking glances at Ushikawa who is currently in the back row on the opposite side of the net. Kageyama knows he should be keeping an eye on everyone, on his _own_ team, even. This is a practice game, after all. But he can’t make his eyes behave. 

Ushikawa is almost silent as he plays, with no desire to scream and celebrate after every point like the others. He’s focused, but borderline invisible; a secondary character where the others clearly wish they were front and centre. It gets under his skin in a way he’s not figured out yet. 

Kageyama watches him land receive after receive, quietly and carefully without so much as a peep until he finally rotates to the front row. The set goes up and Ushikawa jumps, a little better than he did during drills - most likely fuelled by adrenaline now - but it’s still miles worse than what Kageyama might expect from someone of his clear physical ability. He feints rather than spikes, an interesting choice considering it’s hardly the flashiest move he could have gone for, but it scores them the point anyway. 

His teammates, who have all but ignored him for the majority of the match, suddenly scream and rush over to him. One of them puts his hands up for a high ten and Ushikawa frowns, eyes darting from side to side like he wasn’t expecting to be watched at all. He tries to make himself physically smaller under his teammates’ attention and he awkwardly, painfully, attempts to receive the high ten. 

Kageyama feels his breath catch in his throat. He gets it.

“What up with you man?” One one of the other first years cackles at him. “Smile after you get us a point, huh?” 

Ushikawa makes a noise at the back of his throat but says nothing.

Kageyama really, _really_ gets it.

He watches Ushiwaka walk back to his position and all of a sudden he’s back in his second year at Kitagawa First. It’s not the currently nameless first years in front of him anymore, but Kindaichi and Kunimi attempting to make conversation. It’s not Ushikawa’s standoffish behaviour, but his own. It’s _him_ standing alone in the locker room and _him_ not having the same sense of humour as his teammates and it’s _him_ slowly, without even noticing it, letting that loneliness fester into anger. 

Coach Ukai blows the whistle for the start of the second set and Kageyama tries to make his stomach settle so he can continue. 

In the end, his team takes the game and he’s electrified and elated for the start of the tournament season. He’s craving the need to talk to Shouyou about strategy, positioning and game play for hours now after this first day, so he sends the underclassmen home and offers to clean up himself. He’s always found this part of the day a good method for putting his overactive senses to sleep so he can get some rest by the time he gets home. 

Once everyone is gone, he looks around for Shouyou, only to see him packing up his bag by the exit and it makes him frown. 

“Shou!” he calls to him from across the gym. “You wanna give me a hand here?”

When he gets no response, he jogs over to the other side and sees Shouyou changing into his outdoor shoes as if to leave. Surely he’ll want to walk to the crossroads together? Or get a snack? Or any of the various things they do to spend time together once they leave evening practice.

“Hey, did you hear me?” he pants once he’s run over to the exit. “You're not gonna help so we can leave together?”

“Why?” Shouyou asks with his back to Kageyama. “You can manage without my help, right?”

Kageyama frowns. “Well of course I can, but we always-”

And then he cuts himself off when Shouyou turns around to face him.

Because Shouyou is _far_ from smiling. 

There’s a stillness to him that Kageyama finds frightfully uncomfortable. There’s usually nothing that can keep him stationary, especially after a practice game. But all he sees are Shouyou’s tight face muscles and unblinking eyes as he bears down on Kageyama with his gaze. He may dwarf Shouyou in physical size, but he’s never felt smaller than he does right now and even an unaware idiot like him can tell that Shouyou is _pissed._

“What up with you?” he asks. He’s sure someone on the team must have upset Shouyou when Kageyama couldn’t hear them and he’s not above dishing out some threats if he has to, even if it’s the first day of school.

“Oh, nothing,” Shouyou answers, but his voice does not match his face in the slightest. It’s too casual, too airy, and Kageyama’s not sure he likes where this is going. “I mean, now that there’s no one left for you to make me look stupid in front of, I’m fantastic.”

“ _Huh_?” is the only word that comes out of Kageyama’s mouth. 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” His voice is finally reflecting the anger on his face, which actually calms Kageyama down slightly, because shouting is something that’s not as alien to him as sarcasm or passive aggression. But he still doesn’t know why he of all people is being targeted. 

“Help myself with _what_?” he demands. “Cleaning?”

“Are you serious right now?!” Kageyama says nothing. “What the hell was that stunt earlier when I was trying to coach the new first year?” Shouyou points in the general direction of where the game had taken place.

Kageyama tries, _tries_ to connect the dots but he’s completely blanking and it’s making him sweat. He has no clue what on earth Shouyou is even _talking_ about and his skin begins to prickle. 

“I’m supposed to be the vice!” Shouyou says, the whiny cry in his voice telling Kageyama that he’s genuinely angry, genuinely hurt, not just overreacting like his hyperactive personality forces him to most of the time. 

Kageyama’s breaths become shallower by the second. 

“You couldn’t have just let me offer my advice? You really had to stick your nose in and make me look like an idiot in front of everyone? In front of all the new kids?”

“Shouyou, what are you talking about, that’s not what I-”

“You _did_!” he shouts, cutting Kageyama off completely. “You’re not even a spiker, why the hell are you trying to correct me in front of the team like I’m some dumb first year who doesn’t know what he’s talking about? What do you think it looks like when the vice captain is treated like a little kid who doesn’t know how to explain a jump? You think Daichi would ever have done that to Suga?!”

Kageyama nearly swallows his tongue at the mention of their names, but manages to grunt out, “That’s not what I think, you dumbass, that’s not what I was trying to do, I was-”

“You were _trying_ to get the last word in!” Shouyou cries at him, shrill and taught. “You wanted to show off and you didn’t think how it made me look!”

Kageyama somehow manages to keep his voice level, even though it feels impossible with the volume of Shouyou’s shouts being directed at him. “That’s not it, I just think that what you were trying to do for Ushikawa isn’t maybe what he ne—”

“—This isn’t _about_ Ushikawa, Tobio!” Shouyou’s fists are clenched at his side in frustration and this is reminding Kageyama far too much of their fight during their first visit to the Tokyo summer camp when they ended up not speaking for three weeks. He doesn’t have the tools to deal with this. Doesn’t understand how he can prevent it from escalating into something as bad as it did then. “This is about you not giving a crap about my feelings. Would it have killed you to just wait to speak to me after practice? Was what I was saying so stupid that you had to open your big mouth there and then?”

Kageyama feels sick, because even though he wishes Shouyou would just _listen_ to him, he also feels the shame burn somewhere deep when he realises that Shouyou is right. That he’s waited for this chance for three years and probably never dreamt that he might ever make vice captain at a team as prestigious as Karasuno. He’s not had any of the advantages that Kageyama has had in terms of being cultivated and nurtured at a powerhouse school or being physically gifted for the sport he’s fallen head over heels for. He’s clawed his way to where he is now so hard that Kageyama can practically see the cuts and welts in his fingers as if they’re real. 

And Kageyama is proud. He’s so unbearably proud of him. Of the two of them and what they’ve contributed to this team both separately and together.

And he’s an _idiot_. He’s an idiot for not realising how cutting Hinata off earlier might make him feel when being here and doing just this and feeling important and _useful_ is all he’s ever wanted.

But now that he’s feeling this cornered, this _wrong_ , he doesn’t know how to dig himself back out, and Shouyou just won’t stop _shouting_ and his face is twisted up and his voice is pitching all over the place when he yells, “After all this time, you still think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Kageyama finally hears his voice break properly and the tears fall down his cheek.

“What?!” he gapes. 

He’s starting to panic in a rush to find the words. They haven’t fought like this since their first year. Kageyama hasn’t heard his voice sound like _this_ since way before they started dating. They bicker, they bite and they squabble but by this point, it’s more of a hobby than anything else. He can’t remember the last time Shouyou actually cried because of him.

“That’s what it is, isn’t it? Even after everything, and nationals and all the things we’ve done, you still think I’m just some dumb decoy and that I can’t fight without you there? That I’m just some lackey who doesn’t know anything even after three years together! Is that why you suggested me for vice captain? Because you feel _sorry_ for me?”

Kageyama grits his teeth and wishes, more than anything he’s ever wished for in his life, that Shouyou could live inside his mind for just a moment so he could see just how untrue that really is. 

He raises his voice for the first time, he physically can’t stop it and it tumbles out in one long, ungraceful tangle of syllables and noises. “God, of _course_ I don’t think any of that Shou, for god’s sake, you’re not some dumb decoy, you’re my boyfriend and I _love_ you, I just wasn’t thinking, I was trying to do something good and I fucked up, Jesus, I’m really-”

It’s Shouyou’s expression, bug-eyed and stunned, that makes him hear it. 

He stops dead. 

He stops dead and his heart nearly deafens him as he feels the world shift beneath his feet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always lovely people, please remember that this fic is from my anime-only perspective and I have no idea how/if it relates to future manga events so I'd love it if you didn't spoil me in your comments if you are sweet enough to leave one <3
> 
> First fights are always tough and writing them brings me so much pain! But there's no happiness without a bit of angst, right?
> 
> Thanks to the amazing [mobpsycho100l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobpsycho100) for the beta read.
> 
> *
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox)to spam me about kagehina <3


	3. Chapter 3

**From: Shouyou Hinata**  
**To: Tobio Kageyama**  
_Hey! You left super fast again today! Do you not wanna walk to the crossroads with me and Sachiko?????_

It takes less than 30 seconds for the reply to come through. 

**From: Tobio Kageyama**  
**To: Shouyou Hinata**  
_No._

Hinata grips the phone tighter in his hand and feels his airways try to close up around what he thinks is a lump in his throat. He wants to throw the stupid phone halfway across the gym along with Kageyama himself, but he’s not sure his mom could afford to buy him a new one. 

They say that third time’s the charm, but he thinks maybe Kageyama needs more than three tries to speak to him again. But how many more times can he try and any spare time he’s not playing volleyball or spending time with Sahicko, he’s contemplating why Kageyama has suddenly turned into a walking storm and is barely speaking a word to him if he can help it. 

While digging his volleyball against the wall of his house one recent evening, he realises that he can pin-point the start of Kageyama’s crappy attitude to one afternoon two weeks ago when he found the chocolates in Hinata’s bag. He knows that Kageyama judges and gives him shit for his diet, but is eating a box of chocolates really a crime, especially when it’s Valentine’s Day?

It had been _so_ good between them recently. They’d bonded during their time away at nationals so perfectly - not just he and Kageyama, but all of them - that instead of replying with a solid _no_ every time Hinata invited him to do something fun and human, Kageyama started replying with phrases like _maybe_ and _another time_. 

The first time Kageyama had agreed to an evening of snacks, video games and casual garden volleyball, Hinata was certain that he’d misread the kanji in his message - it wouldn’t be the first time Kageyama had chosen the wrong character whilst using predictive text - and then had spent an hour choosing which white t-shirt he should wear for when he goes over there. 

By the time he’d chosen a shirt, he’d just stood in front of his mirror and felt as pathetic as on the day of his first real tournament game. 

Six months of pining and all he had to show for it was his overactive imagination filling in the gaps of how Kageyama might pat his hair instead of grab it. How he might pull Hinata towards him in a hug rather than shake him. How he might notice which exact white t-shirt Hinata had picked out for what - if things were the way that he wanted them to be - would technically be a date. 

It wasn’t a date. 

Nor were the various other training sessions after that, or walks to the crossroads accompanied by the warm scent of food, or the rare occasions they’d watched a movie at Kageyama’s house. 

None of them were dates, because even after six months of pining, Kageyama still wasn’t the version that lived in Hinata’s head who liked him back. 

He looks back at his phone and knows he should be grateful. Grateful that he has a sweet girlfriend who actually _does_ enjoy going on dates with him and wants to hold his hand and who even accidentally kissed him once. 

He should be nothing but thankful that Kageyama is being an asshole and staying away from him so that he can learn how to behave like a normal human being around him again. 

He’s doing him the biggest favour in the world by giving Hinata the detox he clearly needs to re-set his heart to the right setting where it understands not to beat faster every time Kageyama compliments him. So it understands that Kageyama isn’t his and has no intention of being his. Spending time with Kageyama, especially now, will only make him more confused, more ridiculous and might even rupture their team dynamic if Hinata lets himself indulge too deep in his fantasy.

He should be _ecstatic_ about this. 

Instead, he just feels rejected and confused. As he packs the last of the equipment away in the supply cupboard, he keeps his grip on his phone and feels his throat clench and the backs of his eyes ache with the effort to hold back a tear. 

It’s no use. 

“Hinata?” he hears from the vague direction of the door. He hadn’t even realised he’d been rubbing his eyes to try and stop the tears and he has to take his hands away to see Suga entering the room.

“Wow, you still here? Lucky I checked, I was helping Kiyoko with something and was about to lock… wait, are you okay?”

Being an excellent decoy doesn’t mean he has any talent as an actor. So he imagines that the taut and still face he’s pulling does little to hide the wetness on his cheeks, even in the dim light of the room. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says and turns his back to make himself look busy while he finds his composure. 

Of all the people to walk in on him pondering the futility of his feelings for that stupid, oblivious, wonderful bastard, it had to be Sugawara. Who is probably the sweetest person on the planet apart from his mom and if he turns around right now, he won’t be able to stop himself from spilling everything under the power of Suga’s truth-extracting magic. 

“I need to go, Sachiko will probably be waiting to walk home.” He makes a move to leave, but Suga walks into his path. Not by much - he could still leave if he wanted to - but enough that it gives Hinata reason to pause.

“Hinata…” 

When Hinata brings his eyes up off the floor to look, he sees Suga’s concerned eyes and instantly wants to run. He doesn’t have the self-control against Suga’s brand of kindness and he never has. If he opens his mouth now, he’ll tell him everything. 

He needs to go _home_. 

“No one… there isn’t anyone bothering you at school is there?”

“No, of course not,” Hinata whispers. 

He can do this. He can make it out of here without breaking down and having someone feel sorry for him. Again. 

“Because if there is, me and Daichi can—”

“—no, no honestly, there’s… there’s honestly no one.”

“Okay, okay, that’s good.” Hinata thinks Suga believes him, which makes him feel marginally better, because the last thing he wants is Suga worrying about him for reasons that aren’t real. 

Anyway, if someone ever _did_ try to pick on him he would just bite their kneecaps. And then probably hide behind Kageyama while he finished the rest. 

“Listen, I’m not gonna pry, but you know you can come talk to me if you want to, okay?”

“I really…” Hinata murmurs pitifully. He feels his breaths come longer and deeper in an attempt to keep his emotions in check. “I really can’t say…”

“That’s okay too. I just want to help, that’s all, however I can.”

He almost wishes Suga would just _force_ it out of him, because now it’s _his_ choice whether he stays here and talks or whether he bolts for the hills and carries on pretending like he’s not breaking under the weight of all of Kageyama’s silence and scowls.

And it’s that choice and Suga’s warm voice and his unassuming face that breaks him. 

He lets out a squeak and all of a sudden he doesn’t know how he’s kept his cool for this many minutes already. How he hasn’t cried properly over it yet even after six long months. 

He wobbles over to where Suga is standing and he must look as pathetic as he feels, because Suga opens his arms slightly to show him that it’s okay and he doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed about cracking so quickly because he’s sobbing into Suga’s shirt. 

Distantly, he knows that he’s crying something that sounds like _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ into the fabric, but it’s mostly drowned out by the white noise in his ears. 

He didn’t even realise just how much he’d bottled this up, how so, _so_ out of hand this has gotten. He’s never been able to control his feelings; has never, ever _wanted_ to before, because feeling everything all of the time reminds him that he’s alive, and it feels wonderful. What’s even the point of getting up in the morning if you feel _nothing_? What’s the point of breathing at all if all you do is lock things up and let them fester? 

He has no idea why he thought _this_ right now would be the one time he’d be able to shut off that valve in his brain when this is the most he’s possibly felt in his whole life. 

He sometimes wishes they’d never even gone to that Tokyo training camp.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Suga soothes and he even strokes his hair the same way he would if Hinata had done a good job during a match. It calms him down to know that Suga doesn’t find him a nuisance or think he’s an idiot for crying for no apparent reason. He tightens his arms around him for just a second, because he doesn’t ever want him to leave. 

It takes him a little while, but he finally gets a hold of himself and his crying reduces to stupid little whimpers that then simmers down to sniffles against Suga’s clothes. Once he’s completely emptied his tank and goes quiet, he feels the tiny vibrations of Suga’s voice in his chest when he asks, “You wanna tell me what’s got you this upset?”

“Kageyama,” he just about moans out and immediately squeezes his eyes shut because he should have said a different name or made up a different excuse. Why is lying yet another thing he’s so tragically _bad_ at? Along with winning national championships and getting ridiculously talented setters to like him.

“What’s he done now? You guys didn’t get into another fight did you? Did he hurt you?”

 _Just my heart_ he wants to say, but has _some_ common sense to keep it inside. That’ll show Kageyama that he has some brains to speak of.

“No,” is what he answers instead. It’s a little more audible now that he’s stopped hiding his face in Suga’s t-shirt.

“Look, I know he can be a bit of a pain and he’s short-tempered, but if he’s crossing a line and it’s upsetting you, just come talk to us. He’s not a bad kid, I’m sure he’ll listen if we sit him down quietly and tell him that he’s being overbearing.”

“Over…?”

Suga chuckles slightly and his eyes squint. Hinata likes that. “That he’s being an ass.”

He _wishes_ that Kageyama was being over… whatever Suga called it. An angry Kageyama is manageable. A silent Kageyama is just confusing and unpleasant. “He’s not… he’s not being _anything_ right now, he won’t even talk to me.” 

He steps out of Suga’s hold so he can look up at him properly. Now that he’s cried, he feels a little stupid clinging onto him like he would his mom after he scraped his knees as a kid. Suga really is the perfect amount of tall, he decides. Not big enough that it makes his knees knock in fear, but tall enough that he can pat his hair when he does a good job. Or when Hinata needs a hug after breaking down over an idiot like Kageyama, apparently.

“Do you usually talk a lot?” he asks him. He moves from a standing position to leaning against the pile of mats next to him, crossing his arms like he wants to stay there for a while.

“Well… I do most of the talking to be honest…” he ponders. Kageyama has referred to it as _babbling_ on more than one occasion, but he wouldn’t have to babble if Kageyama was a bit more cooperative. “But he’s started talking more and more since nationals. Like sometimes I’ll go to his house and we’ll be doing nothing and then all of a sudden he’ll start talking about tactics and he starts using his hands and raising his voice and… I.. I really liked it…”

Kageyama so rarely uses his hands when he talks. Unless it’s to try and grab Hinata’s head or shirt, or to poke him in the ribs. Seeing him make those gestures had felt far too much like progress. Had made the sting and humiliation of losing at nationals that much easier, because if Kageyama could be excited about something - _anything_ \- Hinata had no reason to be sad. 

“He won’t say two words to me now…” he says, and he feels his own voice drop back into his throat again. “And what’s worse I can’t even tell what he’s thinking anymore…”

Suga chuckles at that. “Could you really tell before?” he asks, which Hinata supposes is fair seeing as when Kageyama is at rest he has about three facial expressions. But Hinata has accidentally become a bit of an expert on those three expressions over the last year.

“Totally! Like sometimes when I was getting ready to spike, I felt like I could hear him, you know? Like his dumb voice was in my head but his mouth wasn’t moving, it was so cool!” 

“I see,” Suga says, and Hinata notices his mouth curl up slightly in a smile.

It’s only been a couple of weeks. That’s all it’s taken for them to go from a telepathically linked force on the court to all but strangers. 

“I just… I don’t know what I’ve done wrong… I just thought…” He shakes his head, if for no other reason than to get rid of the image of what he _thought_ , because that doesn’t change the way things actually _are_. “Dumbass, idiot, stupid,” he grits out, crosses his arms and kicks the backs of the mats with his heel. 

“Have you asked him to his face if he’s angry with you?” Suga suggests, as if it’s just that easy. 

“I’ve barely had a chance to _see_ his face, I’m lucky if he even looks at me now outside of practice. _And_ he stopped setting to me as much.” Of all the things that switch up his mood from sadness to anger, that’s the detail that does it. He refuses to let Kageyama ruin his volleyball career by not setting to him anymore, just because he won’t tell Hinata what’s been eating him.

“Screw him! Screw him, screw him screw him!” he chants, his voice rising with each word. He kicks the mats even harder for good measure, finally letting fury scrub away the salt on his cheeks. “What the hell does he have against chocolate anyway?!”

Suga let’s out a laugh and screws up his face. “Chocolate?”

He barely registers Suga’s question, lost in his own anger. He vows he’ll _never_ eat sweets again if this is what they get him. 

“Who the hell freaks out over a box of chocolates?” he continues frantically. “It’s not like I bought them for myself to eat, Sachiko got them for me so it’s none of his business whether or not I eat the whole thing in one go!”

“Hinata, I’m so sorry, I’m a little bit lost…”

He _does_ look at Suga now and sighs. His thoughts are tangled and he doesn’t remember what part of the story he’s already told and can’t remember how he should word it to not reveal _everything_. He’s getting increasingly impatient and it makes him point and wave his arms around as he speaks.

“Kageyama found the chocolates that Sachiko got for me for Valentine’s in my bag just before we started dating. He got pissed and said some horrible things and he hasn’t spoken to me properly since then.” He thinks he should wait for Suga’s response, but he can’t stop the verbal stampede that he’s started. “I tried messaging a few times. He won’t hang out with me anymore and won’t walk home with me, even when I invite Sachiko with us. He leaves to go home before I can even change my shoes.”

He’s panting from not having taken enough breaths while speaking and he stares at Suga like he’s pleading. Like he might know Kageyama’s mind better than Hinata does, which is ridiculous, but what other options does he have?

But all he says, with a piercing expression, is, “Right…”

Hinata makes his hands into fists and doesn’t even know the words for how angry he is. How badly he wants Kageyama to go to hell but also to answer his messages and to tell him he likes him and to go with him on a date. Somewhere. _Anywhere_.

“I hate this,” he cries out, voice cracking. “I really, _really,_ hate this.”

He can feel himself unravelling. Not even Suga’s softly-spoken, “Hinata…” can apply the breaks to how desperate he is. 

“I just… I just don’t understand why it’s always so _hard_.” And God, he feels the tears again. Not as overpowering as last time, just finding the tracks conveniently left by his previous breakdown. “Like, I’m always catching up to everyone, in volleyball, at school, and now…” 

Playing, training, even being taken _seriously_ by anyone but Kageyama has been an uphill battle since the day he first set his eyes on this goal. And he’ll never grow taller, but he can train and he can work and he can sweat until his eyes sting and he _will_ be the best one day. But when it comes to this; to his feelings, he’s once again standing in front of an enormous wall. 

But this one is far from exciting. He doesn’t feel the thrill that he does at the prospect of being a short guy about to face off against a team of giants who will definitely underestimate him. It’s nothing like the magic that occurs when he knows he’s about to step onto the court against some of the top high school teams in the entire country. 

There’s no training for this. There’s no workout routine, there’s no amount of time he can put in to fix it. He can jump against a block, he can dodge, he can learn to receive one of Oikawa’s serves if he has to. No matter how many times he hopes or stares at Kageyama or imagines the various ways Kageyama could possibly say his first name or call him his boyfriend, none of it will make him any less stuck. 

He’s done everything right. He got gifted chocolates on Valentine’s Day and he got asked on a date and now he has a girlfriend. This is precisely the way it’s supposed to go, there shouldn’t have been any hiccups. If he’d never met Kageyama, maybe he and Sachiko would be naming their future kids right about now. Maybe not, at least he’d maybe be madly in love with her. 

He doesn’t know what he has to do, what part of his life he’ll get to experience, that won’t feel like he has to work for it. Like it’s a constant fight against the current, rather than just being swept along by it. 

“I don’t know how to make it _stop_ ,” he whimpers and puts palms to his hands again. 

He’s wasting his time and he knows it. What on earth would Suga, who’s madly in love and has always probably had it easy, know about his situation or how to help him? When he looks at Suga and the captain, he thinks they probably were pulled together by some unexplainable forces while choirs sang and petals fell from the sky. Daichi probably tripped and fell into Suga’s shoulder or something. What would Suga know about rejection? He could even get a jerk like Tsukishima to love him if he wanted to.

“Hinata…” Suga says, but it sounds more like a question. “Is Sachiko the person you want to be dating right now?” Hinata squeezes his eyes shut at the sound of her name. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Which only makes Hinata want to tell him even _more_. 

“She’s really nice…” is all he whispers instead. 

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I just…” he opens his eyes, but doesn’t look at Suga. His voice is quieter than he’s ever known it to be. “I thought it would pass by now… that now that I have a girlfriend, I thought it would just…”

“Oh, Hinata, it doesn’t really work that way.”

Hinata bites his lip at the pity he thinks he hears in Suga’s voice. It’s yet another reminder of how stupid he is. One of these days, he’s going to make a decision that won’t make other people feel sorry for him. 

“If there’s something you want to get off your chest, Hinata, I promise, it won’t leave this room, it’ll just be between you and me, okay?”

“What is there to get off?” he bites out. It comes out angrier than he meant it to, but there’s a new adrenaline building in him that feels similar to when he can’t sit still during class or when he’s being taunted. “That I’m just sick of everything being a struggle? That I have to scream to be noticed?”

None of it is even Suga’s _fault_ and Hinata doesn't know why he’s being so patient with him, letting him shout and stomp and cry like a toddler when this has nothing to _do_ with him. 

He puts his back against the mats and slumps slowly but surely to the floor. He closes his eyes and lifts his chin up to the sky as if staring at it will get him to where he wants to be. He’s sent up enough desperate prayers over the years to know that they won’t give him what is it he wants. 

“I’m not good enough,” he whispers. 

He’ll never be good enough for volleyball and he’ll never be good enough for Kageyama.

In his contentment to sit there and let his own inadequacy drown him, he’s forgotten that Suga is even sitting next to him. It isn’t until he hears him say, “What happened at nationals wasn’t your fault,” that he’s brought back into his own body. 

He does _not_ want to think about nationals right now. About how badly he’d wanted to be sick to prevent himself from crying himself to sleep. How during the dinner that evening he’d sat next to Kageyama and wanted, more than anything in the world, to reach out for his hand or to hide his face in his shoulder. But instead, he’d sat hunched over, tears spilling into his food and his lap, and just stayed silent. 

“It doesn’t matter how many balls get blocked, or how many games you lose. You play volleyball because you love it. That’s still true for you, isn’t it?”

He’d always _thought_ he’d loved volleyball, but he’d had no idea. The second that first set from Kageyama had hit the palm of his hand, he knew there was nothing else in his future that would satisfy him the same way. 

It had been love at first sight in a way that his feelings for Kageyama certainly were not. A slow, aching burn filled with months of competition and aggression, two weeks of agonising silence in Tokyo followed by the rush of reconciliation. And finally, the first real, tangible taste of victory and the two of them standing there outside the school gates waiting for the morning to come for their final battle before nationals. No one to bear witness to the final puzzle piece clicking into place for Hinata after so long; finally realising that it wasn’t just volleyball that he loved. That he didn’t want to just beat Shiratorizawa, but he wanted to do it _with_ Kageyama.

When he speaks, it’s like he’s hypnotised. Like he’s back there on that street and he can feel the breeze against his face and the feel of Kageyama’s knuckles against his as they bump fists. 

Maybe he just needs to say it out loud. Maybe keeping it inside is what’s poisoning him. Maybe this way, he’ll be able to move on.

“Of course I love volleyball. I love volleyball and I lo-” He bites his tongue and breaks out of his trance almost a second too late. His eyes open finally and the room refocuses, adjusting from being in the darkness. 

He’s not had much experience with romance - okay, _any_ experience, really. But it’s something that people make movies about, write songs about, tell epic stories about. Stories like the ones his mom tells him about his dad and how they met, how they fell in love and the many happy years they spent together. He figures that if something like love is worthy of all of those things, then it’s probably not something that he should just be blurting out in the heat of the moment, sitting on a dusty storage cupboard floor like it doesn’t even matter. And definitely not while he’s this upset and this crazy. 

If he’s ever lucky enough to get over this stupid crush and say it to someone else, he wants it to be epic. He wants to know that it was worth the wait, the same way that going to nationals this year and _winning_ this time will be worth the wait.

So instead, he closes his eyes again and whispers, barely there, “Sugawara, I like him. I like him… a lot... I like him _so_ much.” 

He _breathes_ like his coming up out of water, and his body feels just as heavy. “I always thought feeling like this was meant to make you feel good, right? But instead, it just makes it _hurt_.”

And now that he’s confessed, he’s back to being unable to find the zip on his mouth. Maybe Suga’s already left. He wouldn’t blame him, honestly.

“I thought if I tried hard enough, things would work out… maybe if I spent enough time with him or if we won nationals together, it might make things different… that he might… But it’s still just the same.” The last of it comes out as more of a whimper than actual speech. “He still probably thinks I’m just some dummy he shares the court with. And now on top of everything else, hates me.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hears, and lazily looks to his left. Suga is still there, eyes soft, voice sweet and soothing. “Look, I can’t speak for what’s inside Kageyama’s head, but I’ve played with him for nearly a year now, and I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“You didn’t see his face when he found those _stupid_ chocolates.” It comes out almost like a hiss, and he digs his nails into his palms for good measure. 

“To be honest with you Hinata, to me, it sounds more than anything like he’s jealous. It’s probably making him angry and maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to be around you and why he seems so aggressive lately.”

“What?”

“It’s honestly just a hunch, but it makes sense to be based on what you’ve told me, though I wouldn’t just take my word for it.”

“What does he have to be jealous over?” 

Since the day they first met, Kageyama has eclipsed him in height, in strength, in talent, in everything he would ever need to become truly successful. He was intimidating and scary to opponents and honestly, ridiculously good looking, even with the permanent frown. He’s the best player Hinata thinks he’ll ever meet, regardless of where his future career might take him. 

He hears the sadness and the jealousy in his own voice when he says, “He’s got everything I haven’t…” 

Even if Kageyama could ever… _forget_ the fact that Hinata is very much not a girl, there’s no way someone like him could ever look at someone like Hinata and want to hold his hand or give him a kiss.

“I meant more that I think he’s jealous of you dating Sachiko,” Suga tells him. 

And that certainly gets his attention. 

He feels it like a serve at the back of the head and he can’t believe how stupid he’s been. How many signs he’s been missing over the past few weeks. Like ball after ball that has flown past his point of impact and now, Suga has put the answer right in his line of sight. 

Kageyama is jealous that Hinata has a girlfriend. Kageyama is jealous that Hinata has a girlfriend, because he would like a girlfriend of his own. And what Suga is probably _actually_ trying to say, while sparing Hinata’s feelings, is that Kageyama is probably jealous because he himself likes Sachiko. 

He’s waited for an answer for weeks. For a solution to his string of denied or ignored messages. And instead of feeling relieved or grateful, all he feels is sick.

“ _Oh_ …”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Suga soothes. “Look, if I were you, I would just _talk_ to him. I know it’s… not exactly easy just coming out with something like that, but it’s the only way it’s ever going to be resolved. I will _always_ be here to listen if you need me, but the only person who can actually help you fix this is Kageyama. I can’t tell you how many days me and Daichi have wasted over some fight that could have been resolved if we’d just sat down to have a conversation.”

But Hinata and Kageyama aren’t Daichi and Sugawara. Because Kageyama isn’t his boyfriend. And there’s no conversation that they could have about this that won’t lead to something really awful.

“Do you believe that Kageyama is your friend? That you can trust him?” Suga asks when Hinata doesn’t respond immediately. 

He nods, because he knows that if he opens his mouth, he’ll start crying again. 

How could he not trust him? He’s pretty much the only person apart from his mother who’s really known him and treated him like the person he feels on the inside. 

“Then if he’s important to you, I don’t think there’s any harm in trying to have a conversation.”

For once in his life, Hinata is completely and utterly, out of words. As he sits there and watches Suga get up, he thinks about his first point of call. The conversation he needs to have with Sachiko before anything else.

He hears an alarm followed by a silent groan from next to him and as Suga’s voice is pulled from him, it’s replaced with the sight of Tobio staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

He feels the pressure around his lungs ease slightly once he recognises the reality around him as opposed to the dream - _nightmare_ \- he’d just had. He’s barely even thought about that day since it happened. Since getting together with Tobio just a week or so after that, he’s been riding on a high that he never even knew was possible. At the time of that conversation with Suga, the visual in front of him now - a barely awake Tobio less than an arm’s length away and looking so handsome it makes him want to cry - was more likely to be the dream. 

It’s taken Hinata an embarrassingly long time to stop expecting himself to wake up after every kiss - he’d stopped that habit after the first month or so - then after every time he and Tobio have woken up together like this - _that_ is still a work in progress, especially when this view is so similar to the ones he’d dreamt up the first time they’d been in Tokyo together; they may not have been on speaking terms, but Hinata's treacherous heart forgot to tell his dream state that. 

And it’s not like he’s had a particularly good track record of achieving his dreams so far in his life. He thinks he can probably forgive himself a pinch here and there to remind himself that it’s okay and that he’s allowed to have this - especially if it’s Tobio doing the pinching. 

He may not have waited for Tobio as long as he’s waited for volleyball, but the payoff has been just as life changing. 

He’s still groggy from having been woken from the middle of a dream and he assumes it’s pretty early if the alarm is going off. He cracks a squeaky yawn that he’s always embarrassed about, but he can’t ever seem to control it. Tobio looks away from him with his eyes locked to the ceiling and Shouyou brings a hand up to rub the one eye he doesn’t have pressed against the pillow. 

His boyfriend is still so adorable, even when he’s so gloriously awkward. He wants to scooch next to him, lay curled up on top of him and bring the sheets up to their necks so that all he can smell and feel is the two of them in their volleyball cocoon. But he assumes that if it’s morning, they have to go to school and Tobio tells him as much when he reminds him that it’s the first day of the new year.

He sits up like a jack in the box, his fantasies of using Tobio as a snuggly setter pillow in the distant past with the promise of more volleyball and finally, _finally_ getting to be the vice-captain of this team.

He may or may not have practised what he’s going to say to all the first years and how he’ll comfort them and how he’ll be able to give them _tips_. When he was a first year, ice cream was probably the only thing better than getting praise from Suga after scoring a point.

He’s not quite figured out the head patting situation, seeing as he’s fairly sure there may be first years on the team that will be taller than him. Maybe Tobio can give him a boost whenever a head pat is necessary. Or maybe through sheer determination and will, he’ll grow the extra few centimetres he needs before their first official match. If all else fails, he can always jump.

And to get to do it alongside Tobio, who he trusts to lead them straight to nationals this summer and in the spring, is something he couldn’t have imagined. 

He may not get the snuggle session he’d hoped for, but he _does_ try for a kiss before Tobio has a chance to sneak off to use the bathroom. 

“ _Teeth_ , Shou!” he groans. Because Tobio has some strange hygiene hangups that Hinata doesn’t get, but it’s always worth a try. He gives him the best pout he knows, but it doesn’t work this time. “Just let me go brush and I’ll come straight back, you don’t even have to move.” 

Hinata flops back into the pillows with the promise of a kiss. He’ll make sure it’s a medium-sized one to make up for being kept waiting. He fixes his sleepy eyes on his boyfriend - how does his hair never seem to get messy even when he sleeps? - and sighs, “See, that’s why I’m such a big fan of you.”

It earns him a flick to the forehead, but as Tobio disappears, he thinks he notices the faintest hint of a blush. It could be wishful thinking. 

Tobio is rarely one to come up with cool new code words or nicknames. It’s one of the ways in which Hinata has managed to beat him fair and square and he even forced Tobio to write him a special certificate for his spy skills as a Christmas present with a poorly veiled excuse that he needs to practice his kanji. 

But Hinata knows, deep down that it doesn’t mean what he wishes it meant. 

At the time that Tobio had first used the phrase, they’d been walking through the Karasuno Christmas market and Hinata had engaged him in conversation about how the following Christmas would be their last one in high school. That in two years they might be wandering through a Christmas market in Tokyo, or overseas or anywhere where they could get a scholarship. He’d gotten carried away with visions of their future and all the championships he wanted them to win together and all the places they would travel to until Tobio had filled one of Hinata’s pauses with _I’m a big fan of you_.

The logical part of him knows that what Tobio is trying to say is that he’s proud of him and everything he’s achieved. Praise comes difficult to him for some reason, and so instead of just coming out with it the way Hinata might, he has to phrase it in his own awkward and sweetly Tobio-like way. 

But Hinata had latched onto the phrase like it was a strawberry ice cream and has found an excuse to use it as often as possible. Because if he closed his eyes and listened closely enough, he might have been able to imagine that Tobio was saying something else. His voice had been so soft, and his eyes had been warm and Hinata imagines that if he substituted the words for _I love you_ , Tobio might not have sounded all that different.

It’s a dangerous thought, but he’s always been an impatient and indulgent creature and once he thinks of those words as a substitute for the real thing, it’s like an addiction.

He had _thought_ that he knew he loved Tobio months before they’d even started dating. He thought he knew he loved him during their dates and when Tobio carried him home on his back. He thought he loved him when he saw him crying after a match lost and screaming after a match won. 

He’d been a giant, wrong idiot. 

Because seeing Tobio, an uncoordinated and uncomfortable Tobio, playing hairdresser with Natsu in his lap had slid everything he thought he knew about his own feelings into a different dimension. He clearly had no idea what he’d felt for him up until that point, because it couldn’t have been love. Not after seeing the way Tobio clearly fit so seamlessly into his life and his family as his little sister messed up his bangs. After seeing the effort it probably took for him to not bolt for the hills the second he was left alone with Natsu. 

The next five, ten, twenty years had flashed before his eyes with frightening accuracy, his mother’s words to him over years and years echoing in his head. Stories about his dad littered with words like _acceptance_ and _respect_ all mixed in with that one other magic word. Words he just didn’t have the scope to understand until Tobio had charged in and made him feel as though his measly 164cm were worth sitting through a hair styling session with an eight-year-old for. 

It couldn’t have been love until then because he hadn’t really understood or grasped what his mother had been talking about all these years whenever she spoke about his dad. Not until he’d watched from his living room doorway Tobio embrace and respect him in the fullest sense. 

No, it couldn’t have possibly been love before then. Because after that day, he’s wanted to say it every _second_. 

But he can’t.

Because in all the ways he thought he knew Tobio before he became his boyfriend - something which he still stubbornly and adorably refuses to call him - he clearly hadn’t known a thing. 

As stoic and fearless as he is on the court, Hinata had been delighted to see that Tobio was actually a nervous wreck the rest of the time. A well-hidden one, but a nervous wreck for sure. 

It had, and still does, make Hinata want to hug the living daylights out of him every time he feels as though he might be having a case of boyfriend panic. It makes him feel less alone, less pathetic to not be the only one that gets easily scared. 

But whereas Hinata is scared of the big, giant things like players that are 2 meters tall, Tobio seems to crumble under the idea of the smallest details, like holding Hinata’s hand. And in that sense, he thinks they balance out just fine. 

But they’ve had more than enough near misses where the boyfriend panic has come dangerously close to a full-blown attack and Hinata is already so proud of how far they’ve both been able to get despite Tobio’s anxiety and his own lack of composure. He has to let him take the reins on this, even though everything in him wants to scream it from the top of the school roof.

At least that’s what he tells himself. 

It’s much easier to hide behind the facade of a doting boyfriend when a huge part of him is just terrified that if he says it - organises the timing, the moment and the situation like he wants to - that it might scare Tobio for good. That there’s a good chance he’s not merely uncomfortable telling Hinata that he loves him - he just doesn’t love him in the first place.

He’s almost messed up _so_ many times. He’s greedy and eager in everything that he finds enjoyable and he only has his athlete reflexes for saving him every time he nearly makes an idiot of himself. Evenings after they tuck Natsu in and it’s just the two of them, talking, planning and feeling like they have the world on a string. 

Nights when they’ve been tangled up, quite literally on occasion, in the sheets of Hinata’s futon, Tobio’s bed, or that one occasion on Tobio’s couch when Tobio had rolled onto the floor and Hinata had giggled up a storm and Tobio had scowled all the way to the bathroom. 

But mostly when they train and work and when their teammates decide to call it a night and it’s just the two of them. When they both know it’s coming, but Hinata still turns his hungry gaze on his setter and asks, “Tobio? Set for me?” and is rewarded with the same starving eyes that never, _ever_ let him take it easy. Never once give him an inch or make him work less just because he’s small. 

He starts humming absentmindedly as he waits for Tobio to return. He can just about hear him puttering around in the bathroom, the water running as he brushes his teeth. 

Apart from a national championship and a successful volleyball career, he wants nothing more than for Tobio to tell him he loves him back. Maybe at the end of a gruelling five-set match. Maybe as they walk into a college gym together for the first time. Maybe when they win the Olympics years from now. 

He hates how often he fantasises about it and all the different and special ways he imagines it could happen. How he may be imposing feelings on Tobio he may never have. He has absolutely _nothing_ to complain about. To think that after all this time he can have Tobio’s kisses and his arms and his big dumb heart and his potty mouth and be anything but grateful. 

He’s probably the greediest and the luckiest person in the entire world.

They’ll get there one day. He’s spent his life living on hope, and he has to believe it will come. And that when it does, it will be just as memorable as everything else they’ve faced together.

* * *

“That’s what it is, isn’t it? Even after everything, and nationals and all the things we’ve done, you still think I’m just some dumb decoy and that I can’t fight without you there? That I’m just some lackey who doesn’t know anything even after three years together! Is that why you suggested me for vice-captain? Because you feel _sorry_ for me?”

He can’t stop his panting breaths, can’t stop his tears. This is all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. To Tobio, to the team, to anyone he comes up against in his career. Someone smaller, someone more inferior. Pathetic. 

He’s back with his head stuck between a stack of filthy gym mats. He’s back at Yukigaoka having a panic attack at the thought of being kicked out of the tournament at the first hurdle. He’s back in this very gym, Tobio clinging onto his t-shirt as he challenges him and throws him onto the dusty floor calling him selfish.

Tobio shakes his head and takes a breath and Hinata is ready for him. Ready to bite and claw if need be.

“God, of _course_ I don’t think any of that Shou, for god’s sake, you’re not some dumb decoy, you’re my boyfriend and I _love_ you, I just wasn’t thinking, I was trying to do something good and I fucked up, Jesus, I’m really-”

He’s not sure how long they stand there. Not sure if one or both of them have stopped breathing.

Because just like that, months of daydreaming and fantasising and wondering come to a screeching halt as Tobio cuts himself off. 

He thinks he mishears it at first. Wonders what else could sound similar enough to those words that he might have gotten it wrong. But by the look on Tobio’s face, it seems he’s also heard it. Which means that this is real. 

Which means that instead of getting to hear it screamed with joy at the top of their lungs, or whispered sweetly in their most private moments, it’s finally happened in the middle of one of their worst fights in months, While he’s crying and snotty. When there isn’t a single part of him that would be emotionally capable of saying it back. That would _want_ to say it back right now.

His stomach twists at the realisation that they’ll never have a do-over for this. That when he looks back, he’ll have to try and feel content that this is how it happened. That perhaps all of their important milestones will be ruined with arguments and tears. That after waiting for so long and convincing himself that Tobio didn’t feel the same, the moment has finally come, and it’s come while he’s feeling shattered and worthless as dirt on the bottom of a shoe.

The anger spreads inside of him all over again, but it’s the silent kind. More like scolding hot smoke than a raging fire. He thinks this kind might be deadlier. 

He doesn’t make a single sound. 

He just straightens up, fixes Tobio with a challenging narrow-eyed stare, and with a long infuriated exhale, he storms out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all you asking if I would ever write Hinata POV, I tried to keep this under wraps as much as I could, seeing as I knew it was coming xD It was HARD, let me tell you! Some of these parts were written in like 20-word increments, hence why it took over a week to get finished haha. But I hope you all liked it <3 This is really the part where reading this fic as a standalone may not make much sense, but if that's you, then maybe hop on over to the first fic in the series to get some context for what is happening in this chapter :) 
> 
> *
> 
> Please remember beautiful people that I am a non-manga person so if you are lovely enough to leave a comment, please do not spoil me on future events past s4ep13 
> 
> *
> 
> Thanks to the amazing [mobpsycho100l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobpsycho100) for the beta read.
> 
> *
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox)to spam me about kagehina <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the amazing [mobpsycho100l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobpsycho100) for the beta read.
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox)to spam me about kagehina <3
> 
> As always beautiful people, please do not spoil me in your comments, as I am a non-manga person <3

The second Shouyou slams the door of the gym, Kageyama instantly feels his absence like a missing lung. 

In fact, it’s possible he may very well be missing a lung with how hard it feels to breathe. It’s like he’s taking in mouthfuls of dust, even though he knows it’s impossible.

He can’t hear _anything_ over the roaring in his ears and it makes him panic to be so disconnected from his senses. He whimpers and clenches his fists, looks to his left where the basket of volleyballs sits and _snaps_. 

He lets his anger rip on every single ball he spikes into the ground. Lets out animalistic grunts and shouts with each one. It’s the most amount of force he’s ever put behind a spike. More than in a match. More than after they’d lost to Seijoh the first time years ago. 

He imagines it’s his own face he’s aiming at and somehow he feels the momentum in his arms grow even stronger. Feels the realisation set in with each _bang_ and echo against the wall and floor of just how badly he’s screwed this up. How this is the exact scenario that plagued his nightmares from the beginning. That he’d blurt it out. Too fast, too soon. Shouyou wasn’t ready. Shouyou had stormed out. Shouyou had looked at him like he’d hated him.

It’s only taken him a _year_.

Just one year to ruin everything and all because for once in his miserable life, he couldn’t hold it together, couldn’t keep it on the inside. 

He runs out of volleyballs alarmingly quickly but remains full of rage. He’s vibrating with it in a way he can’t recall. He thought he’d experienced every possible way of self loathing, but apparently the last 17 years have only been a prelude or warm up to this moment. 

He wants to stick his head under a cold tap until his thoughts turn to ice. He wants to toss more balls so hard and so fast that he’ll break his arm, or at least be able to turn back time and beat his past self into the ground for being so stupid and destroying the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

Instead, he walks around the empty gym and collects the volleyballs that have ended up scattered across the entire room. He bites his tongue and somehow manages to control the tears that want to come with his gradual drop in adrenaline. 

The noise of each individual ball hitting the basket is accompanied by the unrelenting sound of _my fault, my fault, my fault._

It isn’t until he leaves, locks up the gym, walks alone to the crossroads and then back to his own home, pads through the empty house, closes his bedroom door and finally looks at his phone to see not a single message from Shouyou, that he fails in closing the floodgates.

He sits on the edge of his bed, barely even aware that he’s let the sobs overwhelm him until it’s too late. 

* * *

It’s only when the daylight wakes him up the following morning that he realises he forgot to set an alarm. Just fell asleep right there with his clothes still on, unbathed and unchanged, his phone under his body somewhere where he’d still been holding it as he slipped away, waiting for Shouyou’s call.

When he looks at his phone, he’s shocked to see that it’s already 10am. He can’t even recall the last time he slept in that late. 

It also means that his mom will be back from her night shift in about an hour. He can either spend the time running himself ragged trying to get to school before she comes home, or lay in bed and face her inevitable scolding. 

He wouldn't normally take the coward’s way out, but considering he knows what's likely awaiting him once he gets to school, he’d rather face his mother’s rage than face his first break up. Probably his only break up, because he doesn’t know what other human being on the planet would even bother with him. 

He’s shocked, therefore, when his mom comes home to find him puttering around in the kitchen and doesn’t give him a death stare or lecture him, but simply asks if he’s sick. 

It takes a further ten minutes of probing and prying and, “Tobio, sweetie, I’ve been at work for the past ten hours, please don’t make me drag it out of you,” before he spills about his and Shouyou’s fight. 

He doesn’t say much, mostly because recalling it makes him feel like he could throw up the breakfast he just made, and also he can’t bear to see the look on his mother’s face when he tells her how much of an idiot he is. 

He’s sitting in the doorway of the kitchen with his legs propped up, strangely reminiscent of years he’s long forgotten by now, when she asks him, “Is it bad?”

He doesn’t have the strength or the certainty that he won’t cry again if he says _I’m not sure I’ll have a relationship by the time I get to school_ , so instead he just murmurs, “Yeah. Yeah it’s pretty bad.”

Because if there’s one thing he’s learnt about Shouyou in the last two years of being his teammate, his friend, his boyfriend, it’s that unlike with most people, it’s not screaming or shouting that’s the real sign that he’s at his angriest or most hurt. It’s when he goes stone cold silent.

“Look, I’m not going to pry,” she says, “but the way I see it is if it’s as bad as you think, the situation won’t change with you sitting here on the kitchen floor. I know it’s not what you want to hear, sweetheart, but the sooner you face it the better. After all, even if it is as bad as you think, it’s not like I can let you skip school for the rest of the year.”

Enough years have passed since his dad left that he barely remembers the details now, but he wonders if his mom is speaking from experience as well as some sort of parental instinct. If she too felt like locking herself away in a dark room and telling the world to go to hell. 

But in the end, he knows that she’s right and that she’s always right. 

She must have sensed his change in attitude, because after a moment of silence she looks over her shoulder at him with a kind but confident smile and says, “What shall I make you for your lunch?”

* * *

By the time he gets to school it’s lunchtime and he completely loses the precious little nerve he had to prepare for whatever confrontation he thinks is coming. That’s why he’s relieved, if not a little surprised, to discover that Shouyou has apparently also feigned illness to avoid bumping into him. 

Quite frankly, out of the two of them, he has more right to do so than Kageyama does. Although if he had just heard Kageyama out, let him _explain_ , maybe he would have been able to get his point across before his stupid mouth and apparent lack of reflexes ruined everything.

By the time he gets to the end of the school day, Kageyama decides that Shouyou’s absence may actually be worse than whatever awful alternative he thought up on his way to school. What was the point of even coming to school if he wasn’t going to get broken up with right away as opposed to whatever this hellish limbo is. 

He might as well have just stayed at home if he knew Shouyou would avoid him because at least then he could wallow in his own self-pity in private and avoid uncomfortable questions about Shouyou’s whereabouts. He gets questions from nearly all his fellow third years at the club and the fact that Shouyou hasn’t even been in touch with Yachi doesn’t help to calm his nerves. 

By the time he shows up to practice after school, he’s _this_ close to just ditching and going over to Shouyou’s house to bang the door down and demand he just get it over with. His stress and impatience aren’t helped in the slightest when coach Ukai greets him in the gym as he changes his shoes and follows it up with “Any signs of our Little Red yet?”

Kageyama can’t believe he still calls him that even when Shouyou is in his last year of high school, but old habits die hard after all. He darts his eyes around in an attempt to come up with some sort of believable lie and in the end, mutters a half-assed, “sick,” before heading over to warm up.

He does better at practice than he expects himself to and he’s grateful that he word about Shouyou’s absence has made the rounds earlier in the day so he at least doesn’t have to deal with any more questions. 

Playing without Shouyou, even if it’s a regular practice game, feels almost completely lifeless. Not because his teammates aren’t incredible at what they do and not because he’s not played with his fair share of top-class future athletes over the years, but because there’s really no one else out there that can parallel him on the court like Shouyou can. 

Growing up with volleyball, he’s always _heard_ about those once in a lifetime connections between a setter and his spiker; partnerships formed after years of playing together on one team or just born of that instant spark fed by a common playstyle and chemistry. He's heard of them, but he’s never really believed it, even after watching Oikawa play with Iwaizumi for a whole year. He’d assumed it had to be a myth or a story that players would tell to humour interviewers and fanbases. 

But since the very first time he’d played a game without Shouyou there beside him, he’d known that there isn’t a single player in the world who could replace him as a partner. It had felt like a completely different game. 

Now that he knows volleyball with Shouyou, he’s not even confident he can ever go back. Playing without Shouyou’s fire and his inescapable presence - next to him, behind him, in front of him, whether or not he’s even in sight - it’s the same feeling he gets under his skin after being out in the sun for too long; it’s not painful and it’s barely noticeable, but under the right circumstances and with the right pressure, he still feels the sting. 

It’s a sting he knows he’ll have to learn to get used to in the 12 short months they have left together at Karasuno. Even if by some miracle he gets through today still having a boyfriend, he knows - despite both of their stubborn avoidance of the topic - that the clock has already started counting down on their time left together as teammates. 

This day, this practice game, won’t be the last time he’ll have to set a ball up for someone who isn’t Shouyou. And it’s probably about time they start preparing themselves for that fact.

Tonight, it’s Ushikawa that he’s mostly setting to. It’s not even really by choice but more like he’s drawn by instinct. Ever since the awkwardness yesterday, Kageyama is hyperaware of everything that Ushikawa is doing, how he’s behaving. Anything to give him more clues to the puzzle so he can just ascertain if he’s right. Because if he _is_ …

The whistle for the end of the first set startles him and he blinks rapidly. It looks like they won the set without him realising. It’s been a long time since he’s zoned out like that during a game.

He looks to where Ushikawa is standing and this time, he purposefully looks out for his reaction. Not a single high five. Not a single move to approach his teammates. 

They start the second set and Tadashi gets things going by sending over one of his nasty serves from the other side of the net. The first years on Kageyama’s team, still not used to jump floaters, hesitate a little too long and just before Kageyama thinks they’re going to flub the receive, he turns to see Ushikawa catch the ball with an overhand receive, sending it directly into Kageyama’s net side position.

It shocks him enough that he nearly forgets to set. 

He sets up a quick attack for Tsukishima just in time, already missing the way that the ball feels when he gets to set up a freak quick for Shouyou. It scores them the point, but all he’s rewarded with is the same nonchalant expression with only the slightest hint of a smirk to show for their success. Nothing like the heat radiating from right next to him like he’s used to. Not like he should expect anything more from the likes of Tsukishima.

After they take and win the second set, and coach gives them permission to leave, Kageyama keeps his attention on Ushikawa once again, who predictably keeps himself to himself while everyone else changes their shoes. 

“Captain, you gonna treat us to that food today in the end?” he hears Chiba shouting from across the gym. “You bailed on us yesterday!”

Kageyama stiffens. The last thing he wants to be known for on this new team of theirs is someone who can’t keep their word, even if it’s over something as simple as meat buns from coach Ukai’s store. 

He looks over at Ushikawa again, who doesn’t seem to be making a move to leave and Kageyama wonders if he’s actually waiting for everyone to go before he exits himself. 

If Shouyou was captain, he would go over and talk to him. He’d probably be his friend within seconds and have no issue at all in connecting with the kid. 

He should just leave. He should let the first years clean up and leave and buy everyone a meat bun as he promised. 

“Tell you what guys, instead of buying you food, I’ll let you off clean up duty again tonight okay? Go rest up and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He’s rewarded with a collective _Sweet!_ before he can regret the second stupid decision he’s about to make in the past 24 hours. 

As everyone filters out of the gym and Ushikawa remains behind, Kageyama tries his best to create the illusion that he has any logical reason to still be there. He fiddles with the netting and paces around checking corners of the room that don’t need checking until he finally sees Ushikawa make a move to leave.

“Wait—” he blurts out. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but now that he has the kid’s attention, he feels like an idiot. “You uh…” Ushikawa just stares at him, expressionless. He supposes it’s better than a judgemental expression. “You wanna get some extra practice with me? I missed out this morning so I could use a partner, if you’re not busy?”

Ushikawa’s expression doesn’t change and Kageyama feels the immediate need to fill the silence in ways he just _doesn’t_ normally experience. 

“Don’t feel like you have to,” he immediately adds, just in case he scares off yet another first year. 

To his surprise, Ushikawa drops his gym bag without ever changing his expression and just replies with, “Sure.”

* * *

Kageyama sets up spike after spike in complete silence, just observing and calibrating every single one of Ushikawa’s movements to find the missing piece. He’s hitting at least fifty percent better and even slightly higher than he was in practice. Kageyama thinks he could very well be correct.

Once they’ve been at it for about ten minutes or so, he finally takes a chance. 

“You’re doing great,” he says, trying to channel that supportive energy that Suga always radiated. “Amazing, actually. How come it’s easier for you now than when we all practise together?”

He thinks he’s not going to get an answer but after a beat, Ushikawa responds with, “I thought I was helping you get the practice, captain?”

Kageyama’s eyes go slightly wide at what he’s certain is the most he’s heard the kid speak since he met him. But his surprise turns into the tiniest trace of a grin when he realises that maybe this is working. If he can get him to _talk_ , maybe he can get him to do anything. 

“This is practice for me,” he responds, keeping his voice casual and even. “My job is to make sure that every single person who goes up to attack has what they need to beat the other guy. That’s why I’m the setter. And so if I want to do my job right, I need to understand the spiker as best as I possibly can.”

Ushikawa nods silently. So much for getting him to talk. 

“Did you have much court experience at middle school?” 

Ushikawa shakes his head. “We had a lot of people on the team. I mostly practised on my own or with a partner.” 

Kageyama nods, not wanting to overwhelm him with the information and data swimming in his head right now. But if he doesn’t ask, he’ll never be worthy of the #1 on his jersey. 

“Makes sense. I don’t know what your partner was like, but when you were spiking for me just now, you seemed way more at ease than when we’ve done practice games together. Hinata thinks you might lack confidence, but I’ve noticed you don’t have an issue going in for a receive when you need to, so it’s not necessarily that, is it?”

He notices Ushikawa shifting a little, just barely, from one foot to the other and he kicks himself for once again making it sound like he’s leading an interrogation. He tries for a different approach. 

“You have skill,” he says, hoping another compliment will diffuse some of the tension like it did before. “I can’t tell yet if you know that or not, but you do have it. Your ball control is great. Scarily good, actually, for a first year.” He visibly sees Ushikawa thaw just the tiniest bit. Surely he can’t have been the first person to compliment him? Not when he’s clearly not being held back by a lack of talent? “But you don’t seem a hundred per cent comfortable when you’re in the air, if I’m honest. I know you were a wing spiker on your old team, but did you coach ever say why he put you there?”

Ushikawa shrugs. “I guess because I’m tall for my age.”

Kageyama chuckles. “Well, that’s definitely true. But there’s more to spiking than height, just ask Hinata, he’s a demon.” He feels a prickling under his skin at the thought of his boyfriend, but instead of dwelling on it, he tries to channel some of Shouyou’s positive energy into his own voice as he changes the subject.

“Come on,” he says with a tilt of his head. “Let’s do some more drills. But my way, okay?”

Understandably, Ushikawa still seems a little bit on edge and Kageyama would bet that he’s probably regretting his choice of staying behind already. At least, he knows he would be in his shoes.

“Trust me,” he says, as though the kid has any reason to trust someone he just met less than two days ago. But to Kageyama’s credit, Ushikawa makes a motion for Kageyama to throw him the ball, probably so he can throw a curveball over Kageyama’s head to set. But Kageyama shakes his head at him. 

“Not this time,” he says. “I’m going to throw the ball and I want you to pass it back to me. As close to where I am as possible. Okay?” 

If he’s confused, he doesn’t let it show. Kageyama throws the first curveball and Ushikawa immediately gets his hands in the right position for an overhand pass and sends it directly back to where Kageyama is standing. 

“Good,” he says. “Now let’s make it a little harder, seeing as that was so easy for you. I’m going to throw the ball and I want you to pass it to me, but I’m going to move to a different point on the net, so you won’t be sending it back to the same place.”

Ushikawa nods and Kageyama repeats his throw. He can already see the difference in him. Calmer, more focused. The same way he gets when Kageyama sees him playing in a non-offensive zone on the court. 

As the ball goes up, Kageyama runs from left-front to the middle-front and catches the ball at the perfect moment.

“Nice,” he says. He feels a smile creeping in, but keeps it at bay as best he can. “Now I want us to keep doing that, but I won’t be stopping this time. I’ll pass the ball back to you and run to a new zone and I need you to keep doing what you’re doing okay?”

Another wordless nod. But he doesn’t think it’s of nonchalance. Ushikawa is concentrating now. It makes heat hum under Kageyama’s skin.

They do several successful passes before Kageyama catches the ball once again. He’s only a little bit breathless from his constant movements and he thinks Ushikawa must be tired from two practice sessions today as well as staying behind to help. 

There’s no time like the present. 

“One more time,” he says with more determination than he’s felt in a very, very long time.

He throws the ball up and runs to one zone, then another, then another. On his third run, he passes the ball to Ushikawa from the right-back of the court and feels his nerves sing, his heart thump and his breath rush as he runs straight ahead to the right-front netside position. 

Not to wait on the ground for a pass, but to jump.

He keeps one eye on Ushikawa and one eye out in front of him as best he can and just waits. 

The ball comes to him, adjusted for the change in height as though it was nothing - far from perfect, but still _out in front of him_ \- and he slams it down onto the other side of the net. 

He barely hears the squeak and thud of his shoes over the blood rushing in his ears as he hits the floor again. He turns his back on the net to see Ushikawa standing behind him with his hands still slightly raised, looking a little shell shocked to be fair, but finally looking _present_.

“Well what do you know, I was right.” Kageyama breathes, finally letting his smile show. “So when you practised with your partner back in middle school, you weren’t the one spiking, were you?”

Ushikawa shakes his head and looks down at his hands, then back to Kageyama. 

“You don’t like to stand out very much do you?” he finally states after holding it in for over a day. He feels bolder than he probably should. 

Ushikawa makes himself smaller again. Not quite the same way he did at the end of practice, but smaller nonetheless. 

“It’s not that you don’t feel confident, it’s that you don’t like people looking at you. Honestly, I’m surprised your old coach didn’t see that spiking wasn’t suited to your abilities.”

“I didn’t really play much anyway,” he replies quietly and Kageyama nods his understanding. 

“Why did you choose to play volleyball if that’s the case? In my experience, sports tend to attract some pretty big egos, but you clearly don’t have that problem.” He doesn’t mention his own ego, because he would like to come off well in this conversation if he can help it.

“I guess…” Ushikawa starts and Kageyama waits patiently for him to finish his sentence. “You can blend in better in a team sport. It’s not all eyes on you. And I… I guess… I really like it….”

Kageyama smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. And sure, it’s true, you definitely can merge into the background.” He walks up to Ushikawa slowly, as though he’s trying not to spook a horse. “But to be honest with you, I haven’t seen you mingling with the rest of the team since you got here. Team sports are one of those double-edged sword things…” he thinks that’s the correct metaphor, “you can rely on others to protect you and have your back. And in your case, you can hide in plain sight, but you still need to have their trust. And that isn’t built unless you work at it. It… yeah, just take it from me.”

Ushikawa nods and then mumbles, “I went for a meal with my old team once.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, Kageyama asks, “were they rude to you or something?”

“No, not really…” he replies, “... but everyone was really boisterous and they had all these jokes I didn’t understand… I might as well have not been in the room.”

He looks down then and the evidence of all that loneliness shows up as though it’s been tattooed on his face. Kageyama should _not_ be feeling this unrelenting need to comfort someone who is barely a millimetre shorter than he is and who he’s just met.

He clears his throat and says, “did you ever try making conversation with them? Maybe you just didn’t know them very well?”

“I don’t… I don’t do well with conversations,” he answers. “I say the wrong thing… or, I have something to say and when I say it, people think I’m weird. They look at me funny…” he pauses and Kageyama feels his palms sweat at the familiarity in that tone. 

When Ushiakawa speaks again, it’s with a bizarre mixture of sadness and frustration, “It just all comes out wrong sometimes. I can’t help it. So sometimes it’s just… it’s better not to speak at all.”

The words pierce like a spear and Kageyama is so dumbstruck that he actually forgets to respond.

When he’d been that age he’d thought those feelings of isolation were normal. Hell, he’d thought they were normal at _thirteen_ , when everyone else was getting on with each other like it was nothing and he constantly felt one step behind - as though the conversation was being fed to him through an earpiece on a five-second delay. Awkward in the fullest sense of the word and entirely, utterly out of place. The only thing that had made sense, the only thing that had quelled the confusion of the world around him and the sarcasm he didn’t always get and the small talk he was never good at, was sport. Was the feel of something solid and real in his hands that he could manipulate and control with his own will. Unlike people, volleyball was simple; was knowable.

He realises that now _he’s_ the one creating an awkward silence, because Ushikawa clearly feels the need to fill it. Either that, or Kageyama has managed to find some untapped well of conversation potential that he hadn’t found in him up until now. 

Ushikawa takes a deep breath and carries on, “It just…” Kageyama is startled at the shakiness of his voice. The kid has barely shown a single change in facial expression other than an uncomfortable one. To hear his voice catch is jarring to say the least. “It just gets… it gets lou—”

“—Loud.” 

He interrupts without even registering that he’s done it and immediately proceeds to swallow his tongue in embarrassment. The silence is a physical thing between them and Kageyama feels the chill of the air as his sweat cools.

“Yeah…” Ushikawa answers after a beat. There’s a familiarity in his eyes that makes Kageyama feel a little less guilty about his own stupid outburst. Just slightly.

“Look,” Kageyama sighs, wondering if he’s about to regret his decision of a pep talk. The last time he’d tried one it had been when Yuki first joined the team. He’d made him cry and had to be consoled by Yachi for fifteen minutes before they could carry on. 

He swallows his pride and waves a hand in the general direction of the wall, hoping Ushikawa will understand to follow him. He needs to be sitting down if he’s going to attempt something this stupid. 

“Let’s just say that I know how you feel,” he says as they walk over and slowly lower themselves onto the gym floor. “You may not believe this, judging by my ‘approachable personality’ and everything…” 

He remembers at the last minute, Ushikawa telling him that he’s not good with sarcasm. He takes the initiative to make air quotes around the words and gives Ushikawa a side smirk for good measure. It does the trick, because he sees him let out a barely-there laugh through his nose. That’ll teach Shouyou to tell him that he’s no good with jokes. 

“... But there was a time… god, a _really_ long time actually, where people really hated me. One time even…” he pauses for breath and for some sort of inner strength. He’s allowed to talk about it. It’s been years at this point. All of it is in the past. “One time, my teammates literally shut me out in the middle of a game. I never learnt how to talk to them and in the end, it ruined the team.” He tilts his head up and closes his eyes at the memory. “It took months… hell, maybe even longer than that, until I was able to set a ball without thinking it was gonna drop to the floor behind me. It made me _furious_ by the time I came here. It wasn’t an easy start for us as a team, let me tell you.”

“What changed?” he hears. The question surprises him enough that it makes him open his eyes and look to his left where Ushikawa is listening more intently than he expected. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well you don’t seem like that now? So what changed?”

Kageyama instantly feels warm and not in the awkward uncomfortable way he does when his palms start sweating. It’s the kind of warmth that’s reserved for one reason and one reason only.

“My team,” he says softly. “My team, and Hinata.”

“The vice captain?” Ushikawa asks. Of course, he can’t be expected to remember everyone’s name within the first two days. 

“Yeah, that’s him. Trust me, if you knew him when I first met him… let’s just say he was a bit scattered back then… although I guess I shouldn’t be telling you that,” he laughs a little under his breath. “But he had a jump the likes of which I’d never seen before. He was the first person I’d met who could keep up with the speed of my set.”

“And meeting him… changed everything for the better?”

“Oh my god, absolutely not,” he laughs, “in fact, we hated each other on sight.” Ushikawa’s eyes go comically wide at that and it almost makes Kageyama laugh again. “Oh yeah. We both had this obsession with beating the other, you know? Outdoing each other above all else. It ended up in some pretty nasty fights.”

“Well, you seem to get on just fine now…?”

“Well, our upperclassmen at the time forced us to work together.” He smirks to himself at the memory of the first time Shouyou had leapt out behind him without even a glance, trusting in him one hundred per cent that the ball would come. “Turns out that once you put us together, we were twice as powerful. It took some time, but after a while, we realised that there was more out there than trying to come out on top. That volleyball was more fun when we were pushing each other to be better together, not trying to beat each other. And that goes for the entire team, by the way, not just Hinata. That’s the whole reason there’s six of us out there, to begin with. It’s because we physically can’t play this game alone. We need them and they need us and the only way you become a team of six rather than just six individuals is when you start to trust each other.”

“And did you? Trust your team I mean?”

Kageyama physically resists the urge to look to the side. He knows that all he’ll see there in the empty space of the gym are the ghosts and sounds of Daichi’s growling voice and Sugawara’s repressed giggles behind his hands. Noya and Asahi’s whispered conversations in the corner away from everyone else, which should have been painfully obvious to Kageyama he realises now. He knows he’ll hear the phantom noise of Tanaka’s wailing fits about Kiyoko and the sound of Ennoshita slapping him upside the head. 

He wondered how many details he missed out on thanks to his temper and his stress and his terrible people skills. 

“More than I ever let them know, I think,” he breathes so quietly that he wonders if Ushikawa hears him, but he doesn’t think he can repeat it. 

What he _does_ know, however, is that if he can make a difference in one person’s life, if he can get this kid through his first year without the bumps he had to experience thanks to his anxiety, then maybe he might leave this school having earned his title. Maybe he’ll actually leave something behind that was positive.

“I don’t think I could do that,” Ushikawa says.

“I’m not saying it happens overnight,” Kageyama tells him, “people like us, we… talking doesn’t come easy. It’s a lot of work and a lot of thinking things through, am I right?”

Ushikawa nods. Kageyama never knew that nodding could be so verbal, but then again, he’s also never really been forced to be the dominant partner in a conversation either and it’s making him unusually talkative.

“But that’s exactly the way they wanted me. I didn’t have to become someone completely different just so I could get on with the team. We accepted each other’s strengths and weaknesses the way that they were. We still do, in fact.” Tsukishima, of course it’ll always be about Tsukishima. “And to be honest with you, there does come a point where… it kind of stops mattering what it used to be like, or what fights you’ve had, or how many people called you a freak and whether or not you believed them. When you’re with the right people… eventually you just… finally know who you’re supposed to be. And that that’s okay.”

What follows is the longest pause they’ve ever had in the 36 hours they’ve known each other. Ushikawa is just staring at him unblinkingly and Kageyama wonders if he’s revealed too much, if he’s made the entire situation more awkward than it ever needed to get. 

In an attempt to get things back on track, he says, “And in your case, what that means is making sure you’re in the right position on the court. There’s no point having you somewhere where you’re not hitting your full potential because it makes you uncomfortable.”

Ushikawa shifts around on the spot. “Where would I even go?” he asks. 

Kageyama smirks as though he’s just faked out Tooru Oikawa himself with a setter dump right before his eyes. “I think you know,” he says. “And so do I. I knew it the second I saw you play.” 

He stands up slowly and holds his hand out for Ushikawa to stand up. He takes his forearm, and Kageyama counts that as a win considering the distaste he’s shown for any sort of physical contact up until now. 

Once they’re eye to eye again, Kageyama picks up the ball that’s lying next to his feet and holds it out in front of him. “I think we’ve found ourselves a new setter,” he says. “Welcome to the Karasuno High Boys Volleyball Club, Ushikawa.”

He must be nervous, but to his credit, he reaches out and takes the ball from Kageyama without faltering. And just when he thinks it’s time to call it a night and leave, he hears him make a sound that could be a word but could also very well be a cough.

“What was that?” he asks. 

Ushikawa looks at him properly this time when he speaks up. “You can call me Aki… if you like…”

Kageyama wishes he was the one with the ball. Having one in his hands has always been his equivalent of a comfort blanket, especially when he feels emotional and unable to express himself. This very much feels like one of those moments.

“Sounds great,” he says, doing his best not to give away the hitch in his tone, “it’ll certainly make it easier for your teammates to call out for you during a match.”

And finally, _finally_ , Kageyama is rewarded with a smile.

It only lasts a second, however, when he sees Aki’s eyes focus on something behind Kageyama’s shoulder and he straightens up slightly. 

“Oh— hello...” he says politely. Kageyama turns around expecting a scolding from Takeda or worse, Yachi. But at the entrance of the gym, he sees Shouyou leaning with his arms crossed against the doorframe. 

“Hi, Ushikawa. Sorry I wasn’t at practice with you guys today. Do you need someone to walk with you to the bus stop at all? It’s getting dark.”

“No, that’s okay, it’s not that far for me. I um… I should get going.” He gathers his things up quickly and gives Kageyama a quick, “thank you, captain,” before heading out the door. 

On his way out, Kageyama notices that he’s also the recipient of one of Shouyou’s sunshine smiles and after that and their conversation just now, he hopes that it will make Aki sleep a little easier, at least for tonight. 

“Hey,” he says once it’s just the two of them and he, once again, feels the need to fill a silence. He’s never been the one to speak first usually. But then again, Shouyou hasn’t been this mad at him since the day they got together. 

“Hey,” he answers, unmoving from his spot at the door. His expression, annoyingly, gives nothing away.

“How long have you been standing there?” Kageyama asks, feigning nonchalance as best he can. 

“Long enough.” His tone seems so normal, but he’s not behaving normally at all. This is Shouyou. A glue gun couldn’t shut him up on a regular day. So this is what it must feel like to be subjected to just how very much in the wrong you are. 

Just when the silence goes on for long enough that Kageyama decides to just awkwardly leave the gym, Shouyou says, “So, you hated me on sight, huh?”

Kageyama feels the muscles in his face seize up and before he can stop it, he’s stammering, “That’s—you did to— I didn’t—” Getting actual words out seems to be futile and once he actually _looks_ at Shouyou, he sees the barest hint of a smirk. Not a happy one, but it’s there. With that in mind, he goes for the first emotion that feels natural to him; irritation. “Oh screw you for sneaking up on me.” Though even to his ears, it sounds like a half-assed attempt at anger. 

Shouyou just looks down at the ground, smirk still in place, but doesn’t respond. He reaches into his back pocket for something that Kageyama can’t quite make out until Shouyou throws it to him underarm. 

“What’s this?” Kageyama asks, even though he can see it’s a milk carton.

“A peace offering, I guess,” Shouyou replies and starts to move towards him from his spot at the door. “Sorry it’s nothing fancy, I picked it up on my way to the gym.”

It’s really not the sort of statement that warrants a response, so Kageyama is once again at a loss for words as he watches Shouyou stroll over to the wall where he and Aki had been sitting just minutes earlier. 

He slides down and takes a seat. It’s probably a safe bet to assume that Kageyama is welcome to join him, so he slowly pads over and sits down.

He keeps a respectable distance between them - about two arm lengths away - just in case Shouyou doesn’t yet feel comfortable having him so close. He’s still no closer to figuring out how he even feels, but he’s just so content to have him next to him after an entire day of a blank inbox. 

Now that he’s finally alone with him, however, and the silence falls between them once again, it’s the perfect space for dangerous thoughts to enter his head. Thoughts precisely like the ones he was having last night when he envisaged all the painful and various ways that Shouyou would break up with him. 

It’s actually scary how quickly disarmed he is against his own defences these days; the ones he’s spent years perfecting. What was the point of them if now, if all it takes is one look at Shouyou’s half-smirk and the feeling of his warm presence next to him, and he’s completely unprepared for what he knows is about to happen.

“You weren’t at school today,” he says. It’s stating the obvious, but maybe it’s the right thing to say in order to get this over with.

“No.”

Well, it was worth a try anyway.

“How come you’re here now?” he tries instead. Maybe a more direct approach is what he needs. Shouyou has never been good at reading between the lines, but then again, he’s not one to talk.

“Drove myself crazy at home so I went to the park but it wasn’t the same. I just… needed to blow off some steam and this was the first place I thought of.” Kageyama stays quiet and doesn’t say what he’s thinking which is that he too tried to blow off that same steam here last night. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d still be here or not.” He might be wrong. It might be wishful thinking. But Kageyama is almost certain that he hears a hint of hope in Shouyou’s voice. Almost as though he’d come here precisely because he thought Kageyama might still be here too. 

It’s probably his own last attempt at optimism talking, but tentatively, he asks, “I thought you were furious at me.”

Shouyou doesn’t look at him and his expression is as level as it has been since he sat down. “I was,” he says quietly, “right up to the moment I walked through that door.” 

“But you still bought that for me?” He tries to keep his voice as soft and even as Shouyou’s. Wants to protect the cocoon of silence around them, but he can’t help the longing that creeps into his tone. He wants Shouyou to look at him so badly. 

“I was gonna drink it in front of you if I found you here just to spite you.” Shouyou cracks another smirk at that, but doesn’t look at him. Which means he doesn’t see the furrow in Kageyama’s brow as the confusion sets in.

“You don’t even like milk,” he points out.

“That’s why it would have been _spite_.”

“Spiting _who_ exactly?”

“I don’t know, I was upset, you don’t get to judge me.” 

It’s the first time he’s seen Shouyou visibly flustered since before yesterday and it’s soothing to see that look on his face when he realises he’s said something truly stupid.

Another silence. God, how many of these can he realistically take before he hits his limit. 

“Can you just do it?” he says, head tilted up, jaw tight, fist clenched in his own shirt. 

“Do what?”

“If you’re gonna break up with me, can you just do it?”

“Why would I break up with you?”

Kageyama turns his head to look at him. Shouyou is finally looking at him now but his expression is still so damn _blank_. Would it kill him to get mad or to cry or do any of the things Kageyama is used to seeing on him? 

“Well, what was I supposed to think when you stormed out last night and then haven’t spoken to me all day? I was actually worried sick something might have happened to you.” 

He wants to call him an idiot. He wants to shake him until he _talks_. But he’s already pushing his luck as it is, even though he thinks he has plenty right to get mad about the fact that Shouyou didn’t let anyone know he was okay. Not one single person on the team. There isn’t a single cell in Kageyama’s brain that would be capable of processing what he would have done if anything bad had happened to Shouyou in the last 24 hours. 

“Oh yeah, I need to check that,” Shouyou says, borderline ignoring Kageyama’s steadily rising fury next to him. Kageyama says nothing, because it looks more like Shouyou’s regular absentmindedness than actual spite this time. He watches as Shouyou pulls out his phone and frowns at it. “Crap, it’s probably busted.” 

“What happened to it?”

“When I got home, I locked myself in the bathroom so I could run the water and cry without my mom hearing me.” Kageyama’s heart beats three times faster and all of a sudden, he doesn’t even want to hear the rest of the story. He wants to bury himself in the woods and never emerge because he promised himself that he would never be the reason Shouyou cried ever again. Another tally to add to his fuck ups. “But I sat on the open toilet with my jeans still on and my phone fell into the water so I’ve had it off all day.” 

Kageyama closes his eyes and sighs. He’s never had to fight the urge to laugh so much in his life. This is the boy he’s chosen to love. He really has no one to blame but himself and yet he couldn’t be happier than he is right now. How lucky is he that he gets to complain about having an _idiot_ for a boyfriend. Because if Shouyou doesn’t want to break up with him, then that’s still what he is. If he still wants to be with Kageyama, then maybe he has a chance to fix this.

“I tried putting it in rice but I don’t know if it did anything,” Shouyou continues, fiddling with the phone in his hand until Kageyama can’t take it anymore.

“Have you tried turning it on?” he asks gently. Shouyou shakes his head. “Can I take a look at it? That shit’s expensive you know…” 

Shouyou’s eyes go softer and he half-wiggles, half-slides across just enough to hand Kageyama the phone. It’s a gesture so delightfully _Shouyou_ that it makes his heart want to bleed. He probably just got gym dust all over the bottom of his shorts sliding over like that. 

He leaves about an arm’s length distance between them which tells Kageyama that he’s probably far from forgiven yet. He takes the back off Shouyou’s phone, and with the unusual silence between them, the clicks and scrapes of the casing echo annoyingly loudly in the emptiness around them. 

He works in silence, taking the sim card out of the phone and checking for signs that the hardware might still be wet. He feels the burn on his skin and _knows_ that Shouyou is just staring at him, watching him. He’ll take the burn over being ignored by him any day.

“I didn’t know you were good at that kind of stuff,” Shouyou murmurs, but even that sounds loud when it’s just the two of them in such a big space. 

Kageyama puts the casing back on and doesn’t look up. He knows he’ll break into pieces if he sees how vulnerable Shouyou sounds right now. Doesn’t want him to see how vulnerable he’s making _him_ feel with his stupidly tiny voice. It’s not fair that he can sound so loud and imposing when he wants to and then disarm Kageyama in seconds when his voice turns to no more than a hum in moments like this. 

“You’ve known me for two years, Shouyou,” he murmurs back, “you really think we know everything there is to know?” He peeks out from under his bangs just for a moment to see Shouyou biting his lip. It’s the way he does it when he’s feeling emotional but it hasn't quite hit him yet. 

Kageyama looks back down and presses the ON button on the side of the phone; anything to distract himself from being this close to him and not being able to reach out and touch.

The phone lights up and Kageyama gives a half-smile at his success. 

“There,” he says, a little melancholy, “all better. The rice probably did help. It was a great idea.” 

He hands the phone back to Shouyou and definitely doesn’t feel his heart skip a beat when their fingers brush. How did he ever survive the days when they were just friends and he wasn’t able to be close to him any time he wanted? These days, he’s barely able to stand an entire day of not having Shouyou tucked under his chin.

Shouyou takes the phone, and he looks so miserable that Kageyama would punch himself in the face if he thought it would help. 

“I really hate you sometimes,” Shouyou says, “not the real kind of hate or anything, you just frustrate me so much. I’ve been mad at you all day. It’s not fair that I can hear you say the things you said earlier to that first year and stop being mad.”

Kageyama closes his eyes and doesn’t even care anymore that he’s letting show how much this is affecting him. It’s equally unfair that Shouyou can make him want to dismantle himself and reassemble his pieces into someone that wouldn’t hurt him.

“You know I skipped school today too?” he asks, Anything to change the subject away from Shouyou’s puppy dog eyes. It _sort_ of works, because they immediately go wider and Kageyama belatedly realises that Shouyou knows Kageyama missed volleyball as a result of skipping school.

“Why? Are you sick? Are you dying?”

“No, you top class moron,” he can’t help but chuckle, “I only skipped half a day. I pretty much cried till I thought I was gonna puke and then I slept through my alarm.” It’s more than what he’d intended to say, but maybe the time for hiding is finally over. Maybe he’s been doing too much running, not just now, but always. “Turns out being a gigantic jerk to your boyfriend isn’t that great for your sleep.”

“But you came in anyway.” It’s not a question exactly, but it feels as though Shouyou expects him to elaborate.

“I… god, I don’t ever want a repeat of last time. I figured if I saw you I could… I don’t know, _make_ you talk to me or at least get you to scream in my face. God, anything was better than sitting waiting for the phone to ring.” He’s started to mindlessly fiddle with the seams of his shorts, his voice getting hoarse. “I didn’t want another three days of not speaking, I can’t do it.”

He dares to look at Shouyou. With that one glance, he’s certain he has the response to his own question as to why Shouyou dragged himself all the way to school in the first place, and he doesn’t think it was volleyball. 

Maybe he was also drowning in his own silence along with Kageyama.

“I am so fucking sorry about how things went yesterday,” he whispers and decides he will _not_ cry, “you have no idea…” 

Shouyou stays stiller than Kageyama has ever thought possible and swallows thickly before muttering a soft, “I think I’m starting to get it…”

The vulnerability in his eyes and the smallness of his posture as he says it lights a fire in Kageyama’s nerve endings in a way he didn’t expect. He suddenly feels the starving need to not be misunderstood this time. Not this time. 

“No, I don’t think you do,” he says firmly, but the tremor in his voice can’t be mistaken. The tremor in his hand as he finally risks reaching out and taking one of Shouyou’s hands in his. “I really need you to hear this. You are the strongest idiot I’ve ever met. Don’t you ever think for a second that you’re not as good as I am, you prize moron. Sometimes it’s like I can’t even keep up with how fast you grow— well… in some areas anyway…”

The pinch he receives on his palm is more than worth it for the way that Shouyou’s face screws up at the carefully placed dig at his height. 

With the ice suitably broken, or so he hopes, he turns his entire body to Shouyou properly and takes his hand again. Only gently, fingers just barely grazing his skin, but he needs that connection to him if he’s going to get through this attempt at being this open with him. Almost as if he can absorb some of Shouyou’s bravery through osmosis. 

“Shou, I don’t ever want us to go backwards,” he says. His voice is unusually calm now, unwavering and true in a way it never is whenever they have to talk about things like feelings or emotions. “You know that, right? Trying to outrun each other all the time? I’m sick of it being a race, I don’t want us to spend the rest of our lives trying to top each other.” 

He furrows his brow when he notices Shouyou’s eyebrows raise slightly and the all too familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. It takes him a couple of seconds to connect the dots before he realises how it just sounded. 

He pulls his hands away like it’s been burnt by a hot iron.

“Oh you-- god shut up, you absolute pervert.” He is seventeen years old and in a relationship. There is no good reason why he should be _blushing_ after something like that.

“I didn’t say anything,” Shouyou says, but the glint in his eye has turned into a full-blown lightning bolt after seeing how flustered Kageyama is and he’s looking so pleased with himself that it makes Kageyama reevaluate whether or not a break up is still on the table.

“You really never want another set from me ever again? Because you’re going the right way about it.”

He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, but at some point during their relationship, his threats had started to be taken less and less seriously. To the point where instead of cowering before him at the prospect of no tosses, Shouyou just slides across the floor that tiniest bit closer, like a giant fat cat that just got the biggest bowl of cream in the world. He _hates_ him. 

“Way to treat your boyfriend who you’re apologising to so sincerely,” He murmurs, a shit-eating grin plastered to his smug face.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Shouyou’s eyes go from smug to soft in the space of a couple of seconds. He lowers them just for a moment, shy all of a sudden, before he murmurs, “I… I am actually.” 

He may not be winning any awards for intelligence any time soon, but he’s pretty sure that Shouyou isn’t referring to his teasing. 

“Did you… did you really mean all of that?” he asks, still sounding uncertain, eyes still slightly lowered.

“All of what?”

“What you said earlier about… trusting me and… and the rest… were you serious?” He brings his eyes up again and Kageyama wants to hold him and kiss him until the sun comes up. But if Shouyou needs reassuring, then kissing will just have to wait. 

“Like a serve to the back of the head,” he says and the smile he gets in return really doesn’t help with the kissing situation. “I guess you think I sound silly saying all that crap?” He’s not usually one to take the lead on anything that could be considered lovey-dovey and to say he’s out of his element is a gross understatement. 

Shouyou jerks his head to the side and whispers, “It’s not silly.”

He’s in Kageyama’s space before he has a chance to breathe, let alone let out a response. It’s a full, real hug, the kind that he’s been aching for for _hours_. Shouyou’s arms wrapped around his back tightly and with purpose. Not tight enough to squeeze, but the perfect amount to make Kageyama want to melt.

“I’m sorry too, I really am,” he says, even quieter now that he’s so close to Kageyama’s ear. He loosens his hold on his back a little, but can’t seem to let go and Kageyama has absolutely no complaints about that. Just gently puts his own arms around his boyfriend and breathes him in. His laundry detergent mixed with something uniquely _him_ , along with that ridiculous cotton candy scented shampoo. 

“I wanted to be the best vice captain I could be and I guess… try as I might, I don’t know everything.” He finally pulls back and sits on his haunches, but doesn't move away. Kageyama mourns his loss all the same as though he’s on the other side of the world. “In the end, you were right about Ushikawa. You knew what was best for him and you were unbelievable with him just now. Just like I said you would.” His proud expression turns unbearably sad within moments and Kageyama’s heart skips a beat because he would do anything, _anything_ to have Shouyou looking at him the way he just did. “Maybe… maybe I wasn’t cut out for this—”

Kageyama cuts that off without a second thought. “—shut up, god, don’t say stupid shit like that. Aki is just one guy. I _need_ you, so don’t you dare bail on me.”

And thank god that’s all Shouyou needed to hear apparently. His eyes return to their usual delighted sparkle, even though Kageyama can tell he’s trying to play it cool. 

“You need me, huh? Well, I guess I can allow that…” he traces the back of Kageyama's hand with his finger and looks at him with a face that promises trouble. “Can I have that in writing? Oh wait, maybe not with your kanji…”

And Kageyama decides that fair is fair. If he can poke fun at Shouyou’s height, then his kanji skills are open season. And he doesn’t care in the slightest because he needs Shouyou in his space _yesterday_.

“Oh my _god_ , just let me kiss you?”

Shouyou preens with barely-contained delight. “I thought you told _me_ to stop asking for permission?”

There’s really only one appropriate response to that, and it’s to roll his eyes, take Shouyou’s face in both his hands that still dwarf him in a way he’s still not managed to get used to, and kiss him. Long and indulgent, just in case Shouyou changes his mind about the whole break up thing. He doesn’t think he will, but he doesn't see any harm in pressing his fingers into the side of Shouyou’s head and into his hair, or angling himself so he kisses him as deep as possible… 

Just in case he gets any ideas about changing his mind.

He pulls back finally - his lips a little wetter and his breath a little warmer and heavier than before - and keeps his forehead pressed to Shouyou’s as he says, “Also I’m uh… I’m _so_ sorry about how… you know…” he strokes his thumb behind Shouyou’s ear absentmindedly as he speaks, trying to find the words. Kissing Shouyou has never done much for whatever higher brain function he has left. “I’m sorry about some of the other stuff I said to you last night. I shouldn’t have just sprung… _that_ word on you when you weren’t ready. I promise I won’t say it again.”

Shouyou is the one that pulls back then. Not subtly, but purposefully and with a hand to the centre of Kageyama’s chest as he actually _pushes_ him away. 

He wonders if, in his post-kissed state, Kageyama has missed a step as to why Shouyou is looking so… the only word he can think to describe it is _exasperated_. 

“Kageyama, I will _kill_ you.”

Kageyama’s eyes widen and he lets out a glottal sound from his throat at the use of his last name. Shouyou hasn’t called him that in private in _months_. 

He doesn’t have time to contemplate the reasons why he’s being last-named all of a sudden, because Shouyou takes the towel lying next to them and starts repeatedly hitting him over his head and shoulders with it. He starts to use his hands when Kageyama tries to shield himself from the towel.

“Hey— cut it out, asshole!” he wails.

“ _Why_ am I even going— out— with— you,” he growls, hitting him somewhere new with each word in frustration. “You’re so— _urgh_!”

“I could ask you the same thing, stop hitting me!”

Shouyou finally gets tired of the towel abuse and shoves his hands into his own hair, almost pulling and his scalp. 

“I have been waiting for you to tell me that for—” he visibly racks his brains - whatever brains there are left after his meltdown, anyway - and shakes his head. “Well, anyway, a _long_ time, jerkface!” His hands come down from his hair and clench in the fabric of his shorts instead, eyes still wild and terrifying. “And if you _ever_ stop saying it, I’ll run you over with my bike.” 

Kageyama blinks rapidly. That’s… certainly a different reaction to what he was expecting. 

Shouyou relaxes and his face crumples once more. “Just… why did you have to go and say it like that? You giant turd, we could have made it romantic and special but…”

_Oh_

Of course.

If Shouyou is a slave to anything, it’s to his dreams. To his wild fantasies about almost everything and anything. Kageyama should know this by now; should expect it. And yet he’d missed the most obvious signs in the world by being caught up in his own tangled overthinking mess. 

Still, he has no room to judge, considering the crumpled piece of paper in his wastebasket that still has the evidence of his _I love you_ date plans on it. They probably deserve each other, now that he thinks about it.

But unlike Shouyou, he didn’t just out his fantasies to his boyfriend. He thinks that just this once, what Shouyou doesn’t know won’t hurt him. If only to preserve what little dignity he has left in this situation.

He uses those few seconds of silence as Shouyou trails off to come up with something, _anything_ , that will turn that frown upside down. If he’s the one that messed this up, then it’s his job to try and fix it.

“Or…” he says contemplatively, “it was the most romantic way after all…”

He might be out of his depth now that he thinks about it.

“It was said here, our favourite place ever. It was dark outside, so there was like… moonlight, right? Sure, we were arguing, but it means we were… passionate….” 

Straws. There aren’t enough straws for him to grasp at. 

“And more importantly… it made me realise what an idiot I was.” That part at least is unyieldingly true and sincere. 

And then it hits him. There couldn’t be a better way to romanticise a shitty situation than this. He is a _genius_. 

“And just in time for our anniversary. I’d say that’s pretty romantic…”

His excitement is short-lived, however, when Shouyou lets out a flat, “What?”

“What, what?”

“Our anniversary— What are you talking about, our anniversary was two weeks ago?”

The cogs were turning so beautifully. Everything was going far too well. In a split second, they jam together and grind to a halt.

“... no, it wasn't?” It sounds more like a question than it should. “Our anniversary was on the first day of school last year.”

“No, it was on the _last_ day of school last year.”

The cogs shatter and break. His head is a cogless mess trying to make sense of a single word that is coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

“How the hell did you work that out?”

“Because that’s when I asked you out!”

Kageyama closes his eyes and breathes, _praying_ for divine patience that he knows won’t help him. This is completely and utterly beyond help.

“Shouyou, we literally had this conversation last year when you asked me how long we needed to wait after getting together before we could go on a first date. And we settled it _then_.” 

He remembers it with startling clarity, because Shouyou had thought that the best time to bring this conversation up was a mere couple of weeks after they’d gotten together during an impromptu training weekend that coach Ukai had organised. The team had stayed two nights at the accommodation, during which Kageyama had had to deal with the very stark reality of sharing a bath with his new boyfriend. Shouyou had brought up the _date_ conversation on their way back to their rooms, towelled off but still pink and _damp_ from the bath. 

“How could you possibly forget that?”

“I remember, stupid! And we settled on my date.”

“No we didn’t, we settled on mine.”

It was a traumatic enough experience to stick very firmly in his memory. Shouyou clearly can’t be relied upon with important details, especially since he’d been completely unphased at his nakedness so soon into a brand new relationship. His priorities can’t be trusted. 

Which then begs the question— “Wait a second, if you thought our anniversary was two weeks ago, why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“Well um…” _Finally_ a hint of embarrassment. At least he has the decency to look ashamed of himself for once. “Well you see, I was so excited about coming back as vice captain that I sort of… forgot? So I tried to make up for it last minute with the, um… but then it seemed like you’d sort of forgotten too, so I figured if I kept quiet, I could just do something doubly good next year.”

He finishes off with a chirpy, positive tilt to his voice as though he’s just cured the world of any and all illnesses. He seems far too pleased with himself for Kageyama’s liking and he still can’t believe he’s managed to spin himself into a positive light. But more to the point… 

“You tried to—” he racks his brains as fast as is humanly possible. “Wait, is that why you wore the—”

Kageyama’s world falls out from beneath him. Thank god he’s sitting down already because the mental image of Shouyou on the night before he’d left for the spring break two weeks ago - wearing his jersey, not his new #1 that he wears now, but one of his #9’s from his second year, and _nothing_ else, and the memory of what had happened afterwards - might have knocked him off his feet if he’d been upright.

Shouyou, as always, takes no pity on him, because he is the world’s worst boyfriend. He sits in front of him and smugly tells him, “It’s okay Tobio, I forgive you, even if you forgot our anniversary, I still love you.”

It’s Shouyou’s turn to look stumped this time. If Kageyama wasn’t already sure that his eyes were secure in his head, he might worry that they’d fall out.

“I— I just said it!” he gasps, in a similar way he used to when he’d hit a set he didn’t expect. 

Kageyama doesn’t know if he should be offended or not. “Well try not to look _too_ shocked by it!”

“Oh s-shut up, I’ve never done it before!” he protests, his cheeks flaming, his eyes panicked and his voice resembling a frantic wailing more than actual speech. “God’s sake, well I guess we’re even now with stupid _I love yous_.” He brings his hands back to his hair and screws his eyes shut as he laments. “ _Ugh_ , I take that back, I take that back, pretend you never heard it!”

It might be the relief of no longer being in the line of fire, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Shouyou looking more adorable than in this moment. No doubt something new will crop up in the next day or so that will take the top spot. But for now, he indulges in just looking at the sorry sight in front of him and takes both of Shouyou’s hands away from his hair and holds them, giving him a slow and soft smile as he opens his eyes again.

“Want me to kiss it better?” he asks.

Shouyou lets out a loud, pained groan. “Why does everything you say sound so _cool_?”

Kageyama rolls his eyes, because Shouyou is full of shit and they both know Kageyama has never been cool a day in his life. At least not off the court. 

He cups Shouyou’s face for a second time, loving the way his eyelashes flutter as he does so. It calms him instantly.

“I love you,” Kageyama murmurs with as much heart as he can physically manage, and closes the gap between them for a quick peck. 

Before Shouyou’s wide eyes can answer him, he repeats, “I love you.” 

_Another kiss._

“I-” Shouyou starts

“I love you,” Kageyama interrupts with a grin.

_Another kiss._

When he opens his mouth for another, Shouyou puts his tiny palm against Kageyama’s mouth and scowls at him. “Will you let _me_ say one any time soon?!” he demands.

Kageyama _lives_ for getting Shouyou this riled up and he can’t help his grin from spreading even further. “I’m getting a head start so my tally is higher than yours. Right now it’s 4-1.”

Shouyou squawks. “You little cheater! You didn’t tell me you were counting!”

“It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention, moron.”

Shouyou pinches his nose, _hard_. “What happened to not keeping score and… something else about racing ahead?”

It’s only with a slap upside the head from Kageyama and a joint agreement that they should probably clean up sooner rather than later if they don’t want to get in trouble, that the argument is brought to a stalemate. 

They collect the balls from Kageyama’s earlier practice in perfect silence. Hearing the squeak of Shouyou’s feet on the floor and knowing he’s here with him is more than enough.

When all but one ball is back in the basket, Kageyama turns to see Shouyou holding the last and staring at the net that they’ve yet to take down.

“You okay?” he asks.

“We’re not going backwards,” Shouyou mumbles and Kagyeyam is certain he’s speaking to himself, because he can just about make out what he’s saying.

“What was that?” he asks. 

Shouyou turns to him properly, fierce and terrifying.

“Tobio,” he says and he’s never heard his name sound like a challenge before. It shakes him to the soles of his feet. “This year. Let’s go to nationals again. Let's go all the way. Let’s get out on that court and kick their asses. And again in the spring.”

“Shou...” he breathes, a small laugh working its way in. As though he didn’t have the same plans.

“And then…” he continues, finally walking over to Kageyama properly. “Let’s get scouted. Together. Let’s play volleyball together until our legs give out and we can’t jump anymore. That’s what I want.”

Kageyama’s heart stops. 

It sounds too much. Too much like a promise they know they can’t keep. Too much like something permanent. Too much like something he wants so, so desperately that he can’t believe he could have gone so many years on his own. 

But wanting something and getting it are two opposite sides of the world. The college pamphlets in his desk drawer. The stress of competing for scholarships. The constant threat of injury. The thought of them playing volleyball together till the end of their days sounds like a promise made in blood the way Shouyou says it. The reality will be nothing like that.

Kageyama swallows. “What if—”

“—No. No, shut up, I’m talking, you don’t get to ruin it with your grumpy ass. It’s going to happen.”

“Shouyou…” he says it so gently he doesn’t even know if it comes out as a word or a puff of air. 

He puts his hands on top of Shouyou’s where they’re still holding onto the volleyball. Partly to ground himself so he doesn’t lose it on the spot and partly so Shouyou can feel the erratic beat of his pulse at the tips of his fingers. So he knows that he’s not resisting out of not dreaming of the same things too.

“What if it doesn’t?” he asks, not even sure he wants to hear the answer. But maybe he needs this too. Needs to know how long they have left before their respective careers inevitably mould them into nothing more than strangers who used to know what the other one smelt like. “What’s your big plan then?” 

Shouyou drops the ball to the side completely, without taking his eyes off him or blinking for a single second. Kageyama couldn’t look away if he tried.

“Then... no matter what I’m doing, what colours I’m wearing, what game I’m playing. Whether it’s a practice game in some random gym or the final of the World Championships. Every time I look over the wall and aim, I’ll be thinking of you. And how I wish it was your set. _Every_ time.” 

Kageyama holds his breath as though for dear life and doesn’t dare say a single word. There isn't a single part of him that can be trusted to speak. Not when the fire in Shouyou’s eyes is burning him from the inside out.

“And when the game is over… and I’m tired and sweaty and my skin is still buzzing… right after my huddle, I’m going to message you. Or call you. I’ll ramble about the game for ages because I can’t wait to tell you in person. And you’ll just sit there all quiet like usual. And then I’ll leave and come straight home. I’m gonna flop down onto the couch, put my legs in your lap and I expect you to rub my feet.”

If he closed his eyes, he might be able to imagine the weight of Shouyou’s legs on him and his soft smile and his loud obnoxious noises as he declares how good the pain in his legs feels. 

It’s too good to be true. All of it. 

And despite that, Kageyama falls right into the picture Shouyou is painting for them. He’s like a siren leading Kageyama straight into something completely unknown to him.

“I’ll have just come home from my own game, who’s to say I won’t need my feet rubbing?” he asks softly, hoping a touch of poor humour will take the weight off his lungs.

“I jump way more than you do, dummy, I get feet rubbing pri—priv… feet rubbing dibs.”

“Well then, you have to cook dinner on the nights I rub your feet.”

Shouyou smiles at his attempts to play along. “Deal. I hope you like pork. It’s the only thing I know how to make.”

Kageyama smiles. “I’ll learn to like it.”

Shouyou smiles back, but falters. The sadness from before that Kageyama hates so much sweeps over them and it turns more bittersweet than optimistic and youthful. He takes one of Kageyama’s hands where they’re hanging by his side and just holds his fingertips gently.

“And…” he starts, voice a little deeper, a little more distant. “And if for some reason I can’t come home. If I’m… if I’m halfway across the country, or…” He looks up then, and the fire is back in his eyes. The unyielding certainty, even if his voice betrays him just a little. “Then I’ll call you just the same - after the game. Just for a few minutes, so I can hear your voice. And maybe I’ll go straight back to mine, maybe I’ll go out for ramen with the team.” He hears and sees him swallow. “But right before I go to bed. After my bath, when my hair goes all _zoink_... I’m going to call you again. And you’ll tell me about your day. And what you ate and who you annoyed—”

“—You know I’m gonna ask what you ate too right? Make sure it was healthy? Not just that instant shit you stock up on?” He has to cut him off, has to stop him or else Kageyama is going to collapse under those eyes and that voice and the future that he’s so scared of.

Shouyou doesn’t give him an inch. He stares directly at him, silently demanding his attention, but his voice is small and kind. A hushed wave of warmth that Kageyama is mostly used to hearing after he’s tucked against him before sleep overwhelms them. When Shouyou is at his most calm and peaceful. When he murmurs utter nonsense into Kageyama’s shirt, his hair, his neck, as he slips away into his dreams. 

“As I fall asleep I’m gonna keep my phone on. I’ll put it on speaker and lay it down on the pillow next to me. And I’ll have the volume turned up all the way so I can hear you talking and breathing. And that’s how we’ll fall asleep. Every night.”

There’s no way Shouyou can’t hear his beating heart. There’s no way he can’t feel the electricity as it prickles through his skin. If he looked down, he might even see the hairs on his arms standing on end. Might hear the sound of the lump forming in the back of his throat. 

To think that Shouyou can be the ultimate dream maker and in every single iteration of his life, of the future he’s conjured up for himself as a volleyball player, wherever in the world that might be, Kageyama is still in his plans. Kageyama is still in his heart, in his bed, on the other side of the phone. Kageyama is important enough, essential enough that Shouyou believes he’ll be there still for all of his days… Where on earth does he find the room in that tiny body of his to dream so big. Where does he fit all of that confidence and optimism like it’s _nothing_.

“Do you really believe all of that?” he manages to choke out. 

“No,” Shouyou says, deep and rough. It startles Kageyama out of what he’s sure were about to be tears. “We don’t need that plan. Because we’re getting scouted. And we’re doing it together.”

Kageyama breathes out in relief but also exasperation at Shouyou’s steadfast one-track mind. “Shou, you really don’t know that. Neither of us does. I’m just saying, it might be best not to expect miracles…”

“That sounds like you’re already giving up.”

“I’m just being a realist,” he says, begging Shouyou to at least consider the other side. God, _one_ of them at least has to be prepared to catch the broken pieces if they need to later on.

“No, screw that!” Shouyou challenges, but Kageyama doesn’t think he’s actually shouting _at_ him, more just ensuring his point gets across. “You don’t get to be a realist about our future. That sort of important stuff should be decided with other people. People who love you. Like me. Because I love you.” 

Kageyama’s breath stutters for a _number_ of reasons. Shouyou’s directness, the fact that he’s not planning for _his_ future, but _their_ future. But more than anything… 

“That’s right, I said it first for real that time, and on purpose. So stop, just stop it.” He crosses his arms, which Kageyama knows from experience means he means business.

“You really—”

“—Just say it. Just once. Go on.”

Kageyama lets out a sigh. There really is no use arguing with Shouyou when he’s in a mood like this. And so he says, half-heartedly, but still with a hint of a smile, “We’re getting scouted.”

“ _And_?”

He smiles wider. He physically can’t help it. Shouyou is a dork and over a head shorter than him. He has no place to be giving Kageyama any kind of orders. And yet… “And we’re going to do it together.”

“Say it again.”

Kageyama chuckles, indulging him one more time. “We’re getting scouted at the end of this year, and we’re going to do it together.”

“And again.”

This time, he laughs and he _feels_ like he’s laughed. All that pressure on his lungs, that tightness in his chest, disappears with the sound as he shouts with a mad smile, “Oh my god, you are so _annoying_!”

Shouyou doesn’t have a chance to come back at him with some stupid remark to _repeat himself_ , because Kageyama closes the distance between them, bends his knees and grabs Shouyou by the tops of his thighs, picks him up with one fluid motion and spins him around a couple of times before he gets too dizzy. 

It earns him the exact response he’d been hoping for, which is a gasp and a squeal from Shouyou as he puts his hands on Kageyama’s shoulders and tightens his legs around his hips to balance himself. 

Getting Shouyou to shut up is a task and a half and it makes Kageyama feel like he’s won the lottery every time. Not least because it also earns him a faint blush as Shouyou’s fingers dig into his shoulders. The look on his face, in turn, makes _him_ blush and he’s pretty sure he knows why. It’s been a pretty long time since he’s picked him up like this and just like that, his bravado is shattered.

“I— I didn't know you could do that anymore…” Shouyou breathes and yes, that is definitely a catch in his voice.

“Neither did I…”

He swallows deeply and flicks his eyes down to Shouyou’s mouth.

“You okay?” Shouyou asks. 

He coughs. “Yeah, of course I’m okay. You’re just heavy as shit now.”

Which is only half true, because Shouyou may have gained muscle, but so has Kageyama and even though his arms burn more than they used to in this position, he’s still more than capable of holding him up at least for a minute. 

Shouyou screws his face up. “That makes no sense, how can I be heavier than shit? Also, don’t say shit!” 

Kageyama nuzzles his apology against Shouyou’s nose. He’d usually just repeat his choice of ‘bad word’, but if he’s pulling out the tricks today, he might as well pull them all out. Predictably, the gesture makes Shouyou go lax in his arms and his frown disappears.

“I love you,” he whispers instead, and Shouyou bites his lip excitedly and smiles.

“I love you too.” 

He lets the moment settle, before wiggling in Kageyama’s arms, completely ignorant of the fact that it's making it that much harder to hold him.

“That was the one, that was _so_ awesome!” he says, all breathy and excited. “Oh my god, can we— Tobio, if people ever ask us, we can lie, right? About how we said it? We’ll say it happened like that, right?”

Kageyama doesn’t give a single damn about what they tell people, as long as it makes Shouyou smile exactly like that. They’ve already changed their anniversary, might as well rewrite this part as well. Shouyou’s never been one for rules and Kageyama is happy to go along with it. 

“Sure,” he says, and cranes his neck up for a kiss. It’s already been too long. 

Shouyou breaks the peck and his eyes sparkle with mischief as he gins. “Wanna go make out in the storage cupboard?”

Kageyama shoots him a no-nonsense glare. “Not again, no.”

“Oh come on, the last time was ages ago!” Shouyou whines, puppy dog eyes and all.

“Yeah, and I’m still sneezing up the dust all these months later.” He almost shivers at the memory of how gross he’d felt afterwards. Never again.

“Didn’t hear you complaining at the time— _ow_!” And really, even if Kageyama was the one being the bigger jerk before, Shouyou deserved that slap. 

“Listen…” Shouyou says once they’ve finally made a move to put the equipment away. “Even when we fight, you know we’re not breaking up, right?”

“You say that now.” Because Kageyama might trust Shouyou more than anything, but that doesn’t mean he trusts himself to not do something truly, truly awful one day. 

“Let me rephrase that. I don’t _want_ there to be anyone else. You do get that right?”

He lets the pause linger, just drinking in Shouyou’s fire.

“I… I actually think I just might.”

He gets it when that fire melts his cold doubting heart just like it’s been doing since the day he first laid eyes on him. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s the relief of still having Shouyou by his side, or that over time he’s been taken apart slowly but surely by his boyfriend’s dreams and his optimism and his wild, loyal heart. But he has a momentary suspicion that maybe, just maybe, they’ll be okay. That Shouyou isn’t a nonsensical moron with his head in the clouds for believing so strongly in the two of them and the future he’s so clearly mapped out, when Kageyama can only bear holding that future in his hands for fleeting seconds at a time and only when he’s at his most vulnerable. 

Maybe somehow, despite his sharp jagged edges and Shouyou’s naivety and their combined, desperate, unyielding greed, every laugh, every stupid fight he knows they’ll have, maybe there really _is_ a future where they still fall asleep to each other’s voices; in person, over the phone or just in a dream.

The thought makes him genuinely lightheaded and before he has a chance to indulge in it, the image fades from his head just like that. The way it always does. He’ll always be the realist between the two of them, but that’s okay. Because he knows he’ll always have Shouyou to drag him up to the clouds when he needs it. 

Except this time, the remnants of his pounding heart from when Shouyou had told him - no, _challenged_ him - that he’ll stay by his side till the end, still thrums under his skin. 

He feels that warm, soothing burn in his heart as they pack up, as they laugh and joke and bicker, preparing to lock up the gym together for the first time as captain and vice captain. 

But most of all, he feels it the strongest when he turns to leave, letting Shouyou lock the gym door behind them. Feels it when, instead of hearing the grinding sound of the door and the lock, he hears Shouyou’s voice.

And then, it becomes the clearest thing he’s seen and heard in his young life. Clearer than the path of a set into a spiker’s hand. 

To think that he could possibly have worried about the right time to tell Shouyou he loved him, that Shouyou might not want to say it back. He hadn’t even realised that Shouyou has been telling him he loves him for longer than Kageyama will probably even be able to recall and certainly more times than he’ll feasibly be able to count. It had been there the entire time. 

He hears it; hears the _I love you_ nestled perfectly in plain sight - confident and nasally as if it’s the first time all over again - when Shouyou says, “Tobio? Set for me?”

He tries to relax the crease in his brow, but there isn’t one. He waits for his eyes to soften by they're already relaxed. He sees and feels his future stretch before him without a care in the world and replies, as softly as an _I love you too_.

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it guys, the trilogy is complete! This series originated with a prompt way back during a Valentine’s themed prompt fest on a kagehina discord server called “firsts”. As is mentioned in all the summaries of each fic, the story was supposed to be a one shot 5+1 called Five Times Hinata Was Kageyama's First and One Time Kageyama Was His. 
> 
> The 5+1 firsts are actually still ALL in this series. The first fic had Kageyama’s first kiss, the sequel has the 4 other firsts (first time being on a roller coaster, first time having a panic attack, first time throwing up in front of someone else, first time babysitting) and the +1 was this final fic in which Kageyama gives Hinata a “first” aka saying I love you. If there’s ONE thing that I’ve learnt throughout this process is never underestimate how an idea can grow because MAN I was not expecting that tiny plot bunny to evolve into nearly 100k of emotion and angst. It took me to places that I never thought I was going to go and I’ve had an absolute blast writing this and stretching those muscles for the first time in nearly a decade.
> 
> I can honestly say that I am BEYOND moved at the support that you’ve all shown this series. As a brand new writer in this fandom and having not written for about 7 or 8 years whatsoever, you guys have just lifted me up and made me SO happy. I’ve legit cried over some of your comments or at least squealed because I could never have imagined this. I genuinely thought this series would get barely any feedback what with this fandom having such seasoned and incredible writers and I was just happy to find the motivation to write at ALL and posted the stories mostly with the expectation that these fics would be for me. I was SO wrong.
> 
> I’ve received so many touching, insightful and personal stories and comments telling me how much you guys relate to Kageyama; his anxieties about not just the world, but romance itself and how he comes to terms with preferences and his feelings for Hinata. 
> 
> It’s something that I think a lot of us struggle with, and I’ll happily put my hands up and say that I am one of them - it’s probably why writing his POV felt so natural to me and I’m so touched that so many of you found it realistic, relatable and therapeutic. 
> 
> We may not all have a Hinata or a Suga, Asahi or Tanaka in our lives to help us make sense of the world when it feels a bit messy and complicated and like there are just too many rules, but I hope that being in Kageyama’s POV and seeing his interactions with others at least made someone else feel like it’s okay to not have it all figured out. 
> 
> I know as a writer, it made me feel a strange sense of calm as I finally gave them this conclusion; we know they’re going to be fine in the end, but it was important for me to show that this isn’t the end for them; that they’ll fight and struggle uphill for quite a while as they grow into themselves and especially once the fight and stress for that pro volleyball career kicks in. 
> 
> But from the bottom of my heart, you guys have made this brand new writer feel on top of the world with all your kind words and analysis and comments. I can’t wait to keep writing in this fandom and that’s because of you <3
> 
> This series may be finished as a trilogy, but I still have plans for more fics in this universe - I just love it too much. Either to fill in the gaps in the moments we didn’t see so far, or snippets of their life in the future. I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to this version of the boys just yet and I can’t wait to share the first side-fic with you guys <3
> 
> P.s for those of you that are (like me) interested in inspiration for books/fics, I wanted to share my musical inspiration for the series title and the three fics so far. 
> 
> I am a HUGE country music fan and especially a duo called Dan + Shay. One of the songs on their newest album is called Keeping Score and those of you who want to go and take a listen, you’ll notice that the titles of every single fic in this series so far are lyrics from the song. The song itself doesn’t portray kagehina’s struggles per se but it’s a bittersweet, slightly melancholy way of looking back at one’s relationship and realising how little time we really have and how the small things that we worry about at the beginning will literally mean nothing when we’re old and grey - and in that sense, that was what I wanted for not only Kags but also for them as a pair.
> 
> Thank you guys for reading
> 
> Love Roxanne xxx

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATED A/N
> 
> I can't thank you enough for all the lovely words you've had to say about my fic, but I've decided, at least for the time being, to disable comments on all my fics up to this point. New fics will have comments enabled, but email notifications turned off. This has nothing to do with any negative experiences with anyone commenting (as you can see if you read, it's all very very kind), but I've just found the experience a little too overwhelming for me personally in terms of responding and no matter how many people tell me not to worry, it's not going away, and I know the more I write the more it'll frustrate me. I didn't want to let new people comment on the story and feel ignored or left out because they thought I refused to reply to them. So the best way for me to do that is just to disable all fics where there are already existing comments. I know this can be horribly frustrating for some folks, so if you really would like to get in touch with me, I LOVE talking to new people and you an reach me via my twitter (linked in the A/N) or through my discord handle which is Roxanne#6113
> 
> I love you all and if you happen to find this fic after this A/N was written I hope you enjoy it and I love you all!


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